


the kids aren't alright

by avianmalware



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, akira has been crushing on him since forever but he cant take the hint, but everyone else does know, ill probably add new characters as it goes on, kind of rewriting the progression so i can let them be gay in peace, mentions of shiho/ann, minor spoilage but i try to be vague, my favorite brand: dense ryuji, slowburn, starts after the 6th palace and i kind of talk about the 7th
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avianmalware/pseuds/avianmalware
Summary: Akira's been caught in a depression and the gang tries to help him out, but he's not the only one that needs a pick me up.





	1. Akira

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys i return with a new fic, ive never really written slowburn so idk if that counts but ?? im trying. that means this'll be a lot longer ! though im not sure if i can really do scheduled updates on this one, but ill try not to make you guys wait too long ^^;; i have a rough idea how this thing progresses so im writing this as i go haha.

It had been a week and yet his body still ached from the interrogation. Not one part of him was left unbruised and instead, green and yellow splotches peppered his skin, which made even the slightest movement unbearable. Most days he didn’t even want to get up from his bed - if it wasn’t for the fact that not doing anything felt just as painful as moving around. He instead found solace in sleeping away most of his days, only getting up to respond to a text or help around whenever he could. It had gotten so bad that he lost track of time, just floating through each day unknowingly. Even though he had never been the type to care for his reputation or looks, he was glad that nobody could see him like this.

Sojiro had already gone soft on him, but it seemed like he really pitied him now. He never disturbed him or asked for his help, and the times when Akira had practically begged to do something useful, it was always small. Never straining. He’d wake up every morning and night to the sound of his door closing and the smell of fresh curry placed on the chair next to him. Sometimes he would even hear him make excuses for Akira so that his friends wouldn’t come up and see the state he’s in, knowing that he’d rather sleep than have them worry more about him. Though perhaps that only did the opposite. 

Other than sleeping though, it gave him a lot of time to think about the situation he was in. They had recently destroyed their sixth palace, and performed a highly risky stunt that even the ever so confident Akira had his doubts about. He was just thankful he was alive right now, though he could do without all the pain that came with it. The Phantom Thieves had decided that a long break after all the commotion was necessary, and as much as Akira would agree, he felt unreasonably antsy this time. He was drained, exhausted, and in pain but some part of him still bubbled with energy, too restless to wait for anything. They might’ve been passively looking for clues on their next target anyway, but everyone had gone lax to the agreement. It didn't feel like enough. He wanted to get rid of this burning feeling that welled up in his chest, to tame the rampant swaths of energy that had nowhere to go. 

He felt like now he knew why his whole team would bug him every second if he held off on a calling card or what not. Going through a sudden rush of excitement before plummeting to stillness, it felt weird. Not being able to go to school only increased the weirdness. He could practically hear the faint whining of Ryuji saying how lucky he was - and he almost smiled at the thought - but it was quite on the contrary. With nothing to occupy himself with, added onto the fact that going out  _ anywhere _ was risky, only made Akira want to do  _ something. _ It was unfair that he had to stay holed up here, but it was a better alternative to straight up dying. Not like he did much to avoid lazing around anyway. 

And as much as he complained to himself, he found himself still submerged underneath the comforter, staring off into it. The bits of orange light that managed to seep through his blanket told him it was awfully late for him to be waking up just now. He could no longer feel the warmth of Morgana curled up against him either. 

_ This _ was the leader of the Phantom Thieves. He found it a bit more amusing than it was pitiful, though he felt like his team would think otherwise. 

“You look awful.” He heard the click of the door as it closed and a familiar voice that deadpanned. He slowly turned over, peeking his eyes out from the comforter to see who it was. Ah, Futaba. She’d be the only one stubborn enough to ignore Sojiro’s excuses. 

“Thank you for the kind words, Futaba,” He replied, and he could hear her chuckle at the response. “Why are you here?” 

“Today is the start of my side quest! Operation: Rescue the Prince from his Slumber!” He could see her raise her fist up in the air as she yelled out the response, before plopping down on the couch. “The prince is you by the way.” 

“Figured as much. But “rescuing” this prince is not going to be an easy feat.” 

“I know, that’s why they sent me! Fufufu…”

_ They? _   She must have noticed the furrow in his brows as he watched her because she rolled her eyes, groaning at him. 

“The team is worried about you, ya know.” She paused for a second, and a wide grin pulled on her face. “ _Especially_ _Ryuji_.” She snickered again, looking over at Akira with narrowed eyes that burned with mirth. Everyone knew about his little crush on the blond - Well - Everyone but the guy himself. He heaved out a sigh, sending over a half hearted pout to her. She only laughed more. 

Before he could even respond, she quickly got up and walked over to him, motioning upwards, “C’mon! Up, Up, Up! Some of us are waiting for you right now! You can’t go lazing around us all month y’hear?!”

He turned away from her, retreating back into the confines of his blanket. He wasn’t much for interaction at the moment, or really, any time for the matter. Too exhausted to keep up a conversation and admittedly, too embarrassed to have anyone look at him. He knew, as the leader though, he couldn’t let them down. That and the team never seemed to back down once they were set onto it...Even if that one thing was just to see him. 

“Just let them come up here, it hurts a bit too much to move.” He heard a small stamp of affirmation from her before she hurriedly headed back downstairs. 

He really wasn’t up for conversation. He knew he looked like a mess, but there was not enough time to attempt to fix himself up before they headed upstairs. He took to at least trying to sit up straight on his bed, halfway emerging from his blanket so he didn’t look like he encased himself in a cocoon. Now all he had to do was wait for them to come in. He felt nervous about the whole situation, which was odd in itself, he’s never had his emotions take hold of him this much.

“Yo, Akir -  _ Uh  _ \- Bro, you okay?” Ryuji had happily marched up to his room - He could hear him all the way before he even entered - but the speed in which his expression dropped had taken Akira back a bit. He had frowned and rushed over to his side. The closer he got made it increasingly harder for Akira to resist the urge of smoothing out the knotted crease in his eyebrows. He settled for a small smile his way. 

“I’m fine.” He motioned him to move back a bit as he went to stand up. He wanted to go for a confident and refreshed look, but each movement took a painstakingly long time and if one were to pay close attention to him, they would be able to see the tiny winces he made. There was an obvious shift in his weight, the majority of it placed on his left leg. But he still gestured at himself like there was nothing wrong. “See?” 

Ryuji looked up at him, the crease between his brows only continuing to deepen, and his lower lip stuck out more. He had brought his hand up and his fingers twitched, as if he wanted to touch at his face. He took to inspecting everywhere else instead, and it took an immense amount of concentration not to let any sign of pink flush on his face because of it. He could feel his heart beat loudly against his ribs now that he realized how close they were.

He had also realized that Ann was standing at the door, leaning against it, smirking. He squinted at her and mouthed out the word, “Help.” She just shook her head. He assumed Futaba was looking at him the same way. 

“Your leg!” His yell was able to shake him out of his thoughts. He looked blankly back at the blond, who was tight lipped with clenched fists. He knew it struck a chord with him because of his own. He was already in pain but, that stung the most. “Those bastards didn’t break it did they?! Jus’ wait till I get my effin’ hands on ‘em, I’ll-”

“Ryuji. I wouldn’t be standing here if they did, would I?” He placed a hand on his shoulder, which caused Ryuji to look up. He stared for a moment at his eyes then to, presumably, the bruises that were scattered on his face, down to his neck and the rest of his body. It was like he was searching - For what? He couldn't tell. 

“Ugh, are you guys like this all the time?” Futaba had chimed in, popping her head in the middle of them. Ryuji had instantly jerked back on the remark, face a bright red and his fists balled up once again. He could feel his own cheeks warm up a bit, but was too busy chuckling at the boy’s reaction. He was about to say something too, before Ann finally stepped in.

“Anyway! We're here for a reason,  _ right _ Ryuji?” She had a hand on her hip, staring down at him. He shot her back a glare, but backed down anyway. She turned to inspect Akira and ended up frowning too. 

“What have you been doing Akira? When was the last time you changed, or…” She eyed him again, “Showered for the matter.”

“Uh.” 

“ _ Dude _ .”

He noticed the three back away at the remark, and he scrambled for an excuse, “It’s not like I can do much now that I'm in hiding. Plus, Leblanc doesn't have a bath here.” 

There was silence for a moment. It was the truth, it’d be odd for a cafe of all places to have a bath in it as well. The three had nodded, but Ann still shot him a confused look, “Then how  _ do _ you clean yourself?”

It was as if she was preparing for the worst answer, he just narrowed his eyes at her. He vaguely pointed in the direction of the bathhouse, “Usually the bathhouse, though it feels uneasy to do so. And frankly, most days I don't want to leave my bed.”

“Kind of obvious. But that's what we're here for! You can't just go silent on us Akira!”

Which is how they ended up sneaking him into Sojiro’s apartment, almost pushing him into the bathroom. The warm water managed to loosen his sore muscles and wash away the oily feeling in his hair that was starting to bother him. Not until they had mentioned it did Akira realize how bad he had gotten throughout the week. It almost reminded him of his life in the country. A boring life that lead to no motivation, which meant no energy. He remembered the times when he would hole himself in his room, staring blankly at a wall, if not his phone. Bittersweet nostalgia. One he could almost laugh about. It made him grateful to have such considerate friends who -  _ persistently _ \- pushed him out of the rut he forgot he loved to stay in so much.

Maybe that’s why he was so self conscious of their arrival. These were people who he didn’t want to let down; they had looked up to him so much, which was strange in itself, but nice. He’s heard them talk about him before, he was perfection to them, even with the daunting criminal record over his head. He seemed to slide into the leader role so nicely as well, he couldn’t turn such an offer down. He didn’t want to ruin that vision, not with this state. 

They probably never realized how much he depended on them to even be “perfect.” 

He heard muffled, but loud knocking on his door; they didn’t give him much time to dwell on it - That or he had been mulling over it for a while now. He dried up and got dressed as quickly as he could before limping out into the hallway. He confidently gestured at himself once again. They only rolled their eyes at him.

“Well, was there any other reason why you guys came out here? I don’t expect your goal was to give me a bath - Did you guys really miss me that much?” There was a bit of snark in his tone in his last sentence.

“Well duh. The Phantom Thieves are lost without you,” Futaba bluntly replied. 

Ann chimed in, “Especially Ryuji.” 

“H-hey!”

They were either just picking on the both of them or Ryuji had really been feeling that way. It was nice to think about at least. Ryuji ended up just scratching at his head, “We jus’ wanted t’hang out. The rest were busy though, but we thought you might be lonely or somethin’...”

He didn't know why, it was over something so small, but it made him feel warm inside. He smiled at the three, “We can't go out for anything unfortunately, so what do you guys wanna do? I don't think any of us want to go and lug out my console to play  _ retro _ games.”

“And all I got are single player games in my room…”

“How about a movie? While we were waiting I looked around the place, seems like Sojiro has a pretty good line of DVDs,” Ann pointed at the room at the far end, most likely the TV room. He remembered when they had went to search for Futaba, and how that was the only room that was lit in the dark place, he could never forget that eerie feeling...And when he was caught by Sojiro with Makoto wrapped around his leg. Not the Phantom Thieves’ brightest moment. Everyone seemed to agree though, and it’d be good to not stress out so much. 

After some bickering about what genre they watched (Akira didn't care as long as he could relax, but the others went to war), they settled for picking a random movie from the shelf. Futaba won in the end, the movie turned out to be some sort of thriller. Akira hadn’t been paying too much attention to it, one part spaced out and the other part freaking out. 

The TV room was a fairly large room which had a decent sized TV backed up on the wall and a three seated couch with a recliner at the side. Futaba quickly snagged the recliner, crouching up on it with all her attention at the screen. Ann and Ryuji took up both sides of the couch, leaving Akira to sit in the middle of the two. Though more importantly, next to Ryuji. In short, he was trying not to be flustered by the situation. It’s not like it was unusual for him to sit next to him, they hung out all the time and he was able to keep his cool then, but with Ann’s soft nudges and Futaba’s occasional glance, it was overwhelming. They were really making fun of him now; curse him for being so apparent. So much for relaxing.

Speaking of Ryuji, while it was just a thriller - nothing chockful of jumpscares or gore - he seemed rather...tense about the situation. Eyebrows upturned, jaw clenched, and body tense - Was he scared of horror movies? Ryuji  _ had _ been insistently trying to refuse watching a horror movie back when the three started arguing, merely stating he wasn't a big fan of “cheap gimmicks and shit.” He even tried to drag Akira into the fight just so he could win the majority, almost desperately trying to ensure Futaba didn't get her choice. He raised a brow, but let it go, he’s gone through enough today. He kept note of it however, Akira didn’t dare to let him live that one down.

He looked over at him once more. It did give him an idea, albeit an incredibly stupid one. It was cliched, one that he couldn't believe he'd think of or go through, but it only became increasingly tempting. He took a few glances around the room, maybe no one would notice…

He gave out a yawn and stretched, each movement brought new feelings of pain and it felt like eyes were burning holes into him. There was a slim chance any of them were paying attention, but his actions felt so obvious, he wouldn't be surprised if someone caught on. Ever so slowly, he laid his arm around Ryuji’s shoulder, trying to rest his own tense muscles. He let out a long exhale, a breath he didn't notice he was holding. He managed to get this far at least. 

Or so he thought. Ryuji’s reaction was rather instantaneous, with him almost jumping off the couch and moving away from Akira’s touch. “Wh- Bro, what was that for?! You scared the effin’ shit outta me!” He yelled, loud enough to overpower the movie. Akira had quickly went over to pick up the remote on Ryuji’s side, waving it at him. 

“Just getting the remote, couldn't really hear anything.” He gave out a small smile, and Ryuji was quick to take the bait. “Sorry about that.” He just waved an alright at him, trying to turn his attention back to the screen. 

* * *

“Ugh, who could be awake at this time?” Morgana had groaned, and Akira only groaned back in answer. He had just spent the last few 30 minutes in working to make himself tired, only for his progress to be further pushed back. The rather loud buzz of his phone instead pulled him out of his semi-consciousness, although he laid in his bed for a little while longer before actually doing anything in response to it. He let out a deep sigh, groggily turning over and picking up his phone. The screen’s brightness was a rude awakening, causing him to squint at the screen and wait for the blurriness of it all to finally focus. It was Ann, what was she doing up so late?

**Ann:** nice move out there, leader

**Akira:** Move? What move, I don't remember any move you speak of. 

**Ann:** don't try to run away from this akira !! the arm around the shoulder trick ?? really?

**Akira:** Couldn’t you wait to make fun of me at a later time, preferably one when I’m trying not to sleep…

**Ann:** it wouldn’t be as funny :P

**Ann:** oh also. turning to get the remote was smooth too, when are you gonna ask him out

**Akira:** Shh, not too loud, I'm still trying to repress that memory.

**Akira:** Also, uh?? How about never? Because of you.

**Ann:** hey! please, i need someone to do double dates with shiho

**Akira:** Why not with Makoto and Haru? I'm sure they'd love to.

**Ann:** fair point

**Ann:** still, how long have you been pinning on him? i just want to see this succeed 

**Akira:** At this point, forever. It’d be nice if it does, I swear the things he says makes me think he does as well…

**Ann:** i’m rooting for you akira, sorry he's like. absolutely dense

**Ann:** anyways, it was nice chatting about your mistake! have to go study now 

**Akira:** Thanks. Good luck “”studying.””

**Ann:** ;P

He dropped his phone down, covering his face with his arm and groaning, he had a feeling this week was going to be a long one.


	2. Akira

“Y’sure you're okay?”

Ryuji and him were supposed to be hanging out — It was the rest of the gang’s goal for the next few weeks, keeping Akira company and making sure he didn't slack off again. They were watching a rental movie at the moment, but it seemed as if Ryuji’s worries pulled at his attention more. The movie that played on the TV was more of an afterthought now, with Ryuji taking another chance to get up close and inspect his friend’s injuries once again. He was leaned in awfully close, inspecting Akira’s face and body. He tried to keep a straight face in front of the blond, letting him stare at him for a minute before it became too unbearable. He waved him away and gave a slight nod, “I'm fine. I swear.”

He raised his brow and gave him one more long look, before finally giving him some space. “Listen, jus’ say the word and I'll deal with those guys.” He lifted his hand up and clenched it, as if to show what he planned to do, before laying it back down and sighing, “You totally didn't deserve what happened dude.”

“At least I'm still here aren't I. It’s better than the alternative,” He rather morbidly replied. He looked out the window, letting out his own sigh. If they didn't find out, he'd be dead. One wrong move and game over. As much as he didn't like the pain, he preferred it over dying. It was a bit terrifying to think about: how he was playing so close to death.

“But still, they drugged you! Hurt you!” He had leaned close again, his hand reaching to touch at Akira’s bruises, although he caught himself before he did. “Didn't mean you had to go through all that even if it meant you’d still be here…”

“You really did become a worry body didn't you?” Akira had mused, a small grin forming on his face. “How long have you been thinking of me?”

“Aw gimme a break! You're my best friend y’know, ‘course I have...But I dunno, with you not bein’ able to be around a whole lot left me thinking of things a lot,” Ryuji raked a hand through his hair, mumbling. Akira only chuckled softly. Knowing Ryuji cared about him this much felt like a dream — It wasn't rare to hear with his open attitude, but that didn't stop him from feeling light because of it. It always felt new to him.

But there was a quiet chill that settled in the room after that, with Ryuji locking eyes with Akira for a lot longer than needed, before quickly looking away once he realized. Things were getting too close - And, at least for Akira, too _hot_. He could practically feel the awkward tension that enveloped the two while they both tried to focus on the TV in front of them instead. It almost worked, with the quiet becoming a little less unbearable and more like they were just trying to enjoy the movie in front of them. Except for the fact that he could practically sense the glances made his way and those twitchy fingers of his that reached up but landed elsewhere. He reached for the remote to pause the movie, it was obvious neither of them were actually paying much attention to it.

“You can touch it, if you want.”

“H- What?” Ryuji had almost jumped off the bed, like he was caught in some big act and was trying to play it off as if he _wasn’t_ still staring at him.

“The bruises.” He motioned towards his face, “You’re always looking at them, and it seems as if your hands like to wander too. If it helped quell your concerns, I wouldn’t mind.”

He was quiet for a moment, awkwardly fidgeting before finally asking,“Serious?”

He nodded and turned over to face him. Ryuji had inched over to him and leaned in closer, so that he could carefully touch at the spot on his face. His hands were rough and calloused, but there was this gentleness and warmth to the way he moved that almost surprised Akira. He still winced here and there from the touch, but the caution of his fingers made it bearable and almost...comforting to have it done. However, he noticed that each move caused little shakes with long pauses in between every touch. He watched him bite his lip and furrow his brow, becoming so entranced yet hesitant about the entire situation. Akira tried to regulate his breathing for the time being, in order to lessen his own nerves and slow down his fast heartbeat. His palms were already beginning to sweat, and by now Ryuji could probably feel the heat from his face, although he paid no attention to it.

He was surprised any of this was happening — Sure, Ryuji has always been this touchy feely kind of guy, always wrapping an arm around him, soft punches, or even linking arms but this? Light touches on his cheek, narrowed eyes focused on him and him alone. The concern and worry that overflowed from Ryuji was almost dizzying at this point. He had trouble keeping himself upright, but he didn’t want to continue to cause anymore worry for him, so he stayed stilled and braced the contact for now. It was nice — Perhaps too nice — for him to refuse such a thing.

“You sure it don’t hurt anymore?” He kept his eyes on the bruises, tracing down his arm and stopping at his hand. He raised it up to his face, meticulously inspecting each bruise on his knuckles. Akira on the other hand, had problems even trying to look at him. For someone normally so calm, it was hard to stop his emotions from taking over just by the fact that Ryuji was _touching_ him and being so _gentle_ with it.

“A little, nothing I’m not used to,” He tried to nonchalantly say, in order to gain some dignity back, even though Ryuji was too oblivious to really notice much.

“Don’t know if I’m s’pposed to worry less by that,” He grumbled and sent a pout Akira’s way.

Ryuji had went back to looking down at his bruised hand, one he had been holding onto since he reached it, and much to Akira’s surprise, he didn't pull away. Instead, he gripped onto it tighter, which only pulled at Akira’s heartstrings even more and made it harder for him to concentrate on what was happening, already overloaded by touch. He raised a brow at the blond, while still trying to keep a calm face as he eyed him. He was still staring at his hand with a face twisted in confusion, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. Akira was about to ask him about it, until he felt his held hand raise up slightly towards him with Ryuji — uncharacteristically — asking in the quietest and softest tone, “Actually uh...Can we...Can we talk about this more — And seriously this time.”

He blinked, tilting his head ever so slightly out of his own confusion. He had said it almost in a whisper and it was a first to see him so quiet, where Akira almost had to strain his ear in order to hear the words. It was like he was embarrassed to say it out loud. Ryuji wanted to be serious now, but he couldn't piece together what “this” was. Especially with the added fact that his grip was so tight, he had a hard time trying to process anything at the moment. Was it about them? Their relationship? He was holding his hand, and for so long too — No, it couldn't possibly be that, Akira was being a bit too hopeful about the situation he was in.

“Could you...elaborate a bit?” He had carefully said, choosing to focus on a spot on the wall instead of Ryuji in order to quell his feelings.

“I dunno, I just…” He paused, letting out a long exhale. “I was worried you'd be gone for good.”

The response jerked him back into reality, the despair in his tone and in its context unveiling the seriousness of the conversation. He didn’t know how to reply back, didn’t know the right words that would comfort him and his concerns. He took the silence to explain further.

“Didn't want to underestimate the team but everythin’ about it made me anxious, y’know? Were you worried too? Or am I just overreacting again,” He laughed, but it was different from his usual laughter, this time hollow and cold, “Could’ve been jus’ that, sounds like a stupid thing I'd do.”

He mulled it over for a bit, he knew the plan at the time was stressful for everyone. No one really knew if the outcome was going to be successful, but he didn’t stop to think how hard it’d be for everyone to have to sit and hope it worked. Even when _he_ was stressed to hell and back because of it. He was just happy to be back and see him again — And Ryuji looked so happy too, he never considered what could’ve been hiding behind that smile.

“To be perfectly honest, I was scared too. Didn't want to lower the morale though, being the leader and all, because it _was_ something we had to do. So no, you aren't overreacting.”

He nodded, he knew it was necessary, but the look on his face showed he didn't want it to be. “Y’think so? All I've been hearin’ is jokes ‘bout me being so worried for nothin’ — I mean, what's up with that?”

“Sorry. It’s just - How do I put it, you _have_ been staring at me every time you come over. You even rushed over to me and got so mad about my injuries too.” He pointed out, chuckling when he noticed the new red tint blooming on his face. “I guess it’s because out of all of us you're so loud and obvious with it is all. A bit shocking at first but...it's comforting.”

He leaned back a bit, almost looking dumbfounded by the answer, “...You don't mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Uh—” He let go of his hand, looking surprised to have noticed himself doing that, “Thanks man, guess that's all I needed to hear.”

* * *

The minute Ryuji left, Akira found himself face first in his pillow, mind reeling and face _burning_ . Whatever happened back there, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that his heart wouldn’t survive if it happened again. He remembered how gentle he was, how even though his hands weren’t the softest, it managed to be the most comforting thing he felt. How smooth he was when he traced down on his arm towards his hand - And his _hand_. He held it without a second thought, never even thought to let it go at any point, feeling comfortable just talking to him with his hand clasped around Akira’s. Nevermind the fact that Ryuji was concerned for his wellbeing, just the fact that he touched him so carefully and caringly was such an overwhelming thought. There was no platonic explanation for that and yet he felt as if it was just that. Platonic — Even if part of him wanted to believe otherwise. It was always like Ryuji to send so many mixed signals his way.

He remembered when it first started. They had gone out running again for some training, and Ryuji had commented on how Akira made him feel free. It was a struggle to keep his cool even then, trying to play dumb and ask what he meant just to know if he was hitting on him. But even Ryuji didn’t know the answer to his own comment, which only led Akira to an even more panicked state. Most times he surprised himself on how calm he could be, with Ryuji constantly saying similar things to him. Despite Akira’s usual stoic nature, he was always weak to love, he just wasn’t used to it.

It gave him more of a reason to panic now. It wasn’t just words this time, it was touch as well. It was the fact that he held his hand — A part he just couldn’t seem to get over amongst everything else he did and said. It was unfair, Ryuji looked like he thought nothing of it, so carefree in what he did, but Akira had to get so hot and bothered by it. Maybe Ryuji was freaking out as well, but he was just too dense for that.

“You okay there, Akira? Weren’t you hanging out with Ryuji a second ago?” A new weight plodded onto his pillow and he simply waved at him, refusing to take his face off of said thing.

“Sh, Morgana, leave me to try to melt into this pillow alone.”

“ _Ugh_ , sometimes I wonder how you’re our leader...” He muttered, Akira only shrugged back. He felt him shift over to the side of him. “Was it that bad?”

“Quite on the contrary. I think?” Every time he tried to form a solid thought on it made his mind short circuit, still too overwhelmed by everything that happened, and it didn’t seem like he was calming down anytime soon. It was a weird mix of being too embarrassing but nice to think about. One he couldn’t quite wrangle out a clear feeling for. “I need some…time to process this.”

“There is no time! C’mon, we have things to do. Doesn’t your face hurt doing that?” He asked, poking at his head to try to get him up.

“One, that’s a lie, we have absolutely nothing planned. Two, the pain helps me forget.”

He didn’t even need to look up to know he was rolling his eyes at him, he just groaned, “ _Akira_.”

“Fine, fine. What is it you want?” He lifted his face up to squint at him and turned on his side so that he could face him.

He motioned over to the TV, “You said you’d watch the new episode with me tonight…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of dialogue heavy this chapter, but i hope that's alright ^^;;
> 
> also here lies akira, death by ryujis obliviousness


	3. Akira

It was the early afternoon and Sojiro had gone out to run some errands, amongst other things, which meant that the café was closed for the day. Which in turn meant that Akira had the place all to himself — And he could blast pop music from the attic with no complaints whatsoever. 

It was none other than Ann’s turn to  bother him keep him company and they used the time being to gossip and do each other’s makeup. At the moment Ann was seated at Akira’s desk, with Akira behind her brushing at her hair. In front of them was an assortment of hair products splayed out on the desk, and a medium sized mirror propped up on it. He grabbed parts of her hair, moving it around to try to visualize what he wanted to make, in which he could see her laugh in response, most likely also due to the deep focus his face showed. He had finally gotten straight to work, with a little nudge by Ann, dividing the hair into two parts and braiding upwards with it, ending it with a bun on top. Once he was finished touching up both sides he took a step back, gesturing at her hair. She laughed a little again, but gave him a thumbs up before posing with the hairstyle. After that was all said and done, Ann had gotten up and hurriedly made her way over to her bag, rummaging through it before showing him her new nail polish. She had then made her way over to the couch with Akira following behind, choosing to kneel in front of her and stick his hands out. 

The room had been silent for a while aside from the music blaring, a tradition they liked to keep because of how calming it was when they did each other’s make up . Akira focused most of his attention on his hands, watching Ann delicately brush over each nail with dark red, and he let out a small smile. 

He remembered how it all started, and how awkward he felt trying to ask about it. He had mentioned how he had a deep interest in beauty and makeup, and admittedly how jealous he was that Ann had all of it at her fingertips, being a model and all. He never was able to try it out himself, but didn’t want any fear to hold him back, he just wanted to feel confident about it. Ann didn’t seem to mind it at all and in fact was ecstatic about his little confession. Considering that he was helping her get stronger, she figured that she might as well help him with this in return, and had no problem at all with it. He was so relieved back then, and still was, that he was able to venture this side of himself with her. 

He blew on his nails as he waited for them to dry. He looked up at an Ann, finally deciding to break the silence, “So, how’s Shiho?” 

She lit up almost immediately at the mention of her girlfriend’s name, hands clasped and sighing as if she was recounting a dream she had. He only chuckled at her, her love for Shiho was as endearing as usual. “As great as ever! We went out on a date after school yesterday…”

“I need details.”

She propped herself on her knees, patting at her thighs as she got ready to tell her story. She was already antsy about it, and she only became more animated as she talked, “So, we planned to go somewhere really nice after saving up enough money. I took fashion advice from the queen herself, Makoto, and showed up in a real nice suit. One sec —” She got up and scrambled over to get out her phone, showing him a pic of her in a nice black two piece suit. He nodded, the look suited her well. “But Shiho, she was stunning — As usual — but it was almost like she was shining. Possibly the most beautiful dress I've seen...Paired with the most beautiful person. Like I was staring at heaven...Overall it went great. The food was delicious, she laughed at my jokes too.”

It was quiet again for a moment, with Ann staring off and Akira couldn’t help but grin at her. He mused, “Ann...That's really gay,”

“I try my hardest. But anyway, school’s been treating her well, she's made a lot of new friends. But I'm still number one.” She grinned, flexing an arm in triumph. “Says she misses seeing me all the time though, I promised her I'd hang out with her every day once school's over.” 

“I'm glad to hear that she's fitting right in, but...What about little ol’ me?” He sent a pout her way, but he was only joking. She rolled her eyes at him and gave him a light punch on the shoulder, he made a fake pained expression in return.

She leaned back and crossed her arms, “I love you and all Akira but I have priorities. Something’s wrong with me if I didn't want to see my girlfriend's face everyday. Plus, you have Ryuji don't you?” 

He nodded in agreement, he’d be surprised too if Ann  _ didn’t _ want to spend every second of the day with Shiho. It was good for her, the relationship gave her a lot of confidence and strength and Akira was glad to see how much she’s changed since he first met her. She was so dismal about herself, always looking up to Shiho whilst being a little envious, but the new relationship seemed to have healed all of it. On the other hand, it didn’t take him long to look almost surprised by Ryuji’s name making its way into the conversation and Ann quickly noticed him perk up with a red face to match. She leaned over and raised a brow at him while he looked off to the side, mumbling, “Speaking of Ryuji…” 

She interrupted him, leaning closer as she did, “Did you finally make a move?”

He thought about it for a moment, glancing over at his hand; he could still remember how firm he held it. Even before that, just his touch, how...warm it was. It was all still so confusing even though a day had gone by since it happened, just by the sheer amount of unanswered questions it left. “I think...He did.”

“Wait, what?” She paused for a moment, face twisted in confusion as she tried to make sense of what he just said. “We're talking about the same Ryuji right? The oblivious one who can't take the hint that you have a crush on him?” 

“Unless a different blond delinquent showed up at my house to hang out with me, then yes.” 

For a brief moment it was like her face went on a journey, trying to piece together the information in a way that seemed probable, because Ryuji making a move seemed impossible for many reasons. If Akira heard it he’d be as stunned as she was. It just didn’t make any sense.

“How?!”

“I uh…” He turned away from her, face only continuing to get hotter by second from the embarrassment of it all. He scratched at his cheek, quietly murmuring, “Let him touch...my bruises.”

“You what?”

“You know Ryuji...He was so worried about me and all, with those  _ twitchy _ fingers of his. Always seemed like he wanted to touch them so I...Let him? He was so gentle and caring and sweet. It was really cute?” He trailed off before looking straight at her and deadpanning, “I almost died, Ann.”

She snorted, “And you say I’m really gay...God, you’re pathetic. Did you not see that coming?” 

He stuck his tongue out at her, she rolled her eyes. “Touche. But, he also...He held my hand, Ann. He held it for like an hour while talking to me. Was he hinting at something? Was it platonic? I just...It  _ was _ nice though.”

She got up from her seat, sighing, “Knowing Ryuji, probably platonic. But back in middle school though, I’ve seen him send the same mixed signals before. I swear sometimes I don’t think he knows he’s crushing on the person...He did it to me before too, apologized though once I mentioned it. So...Good luck.” He pouted at her again, she just shrugged, “Anyways, enough about  _ boys _ , I’m here to get your mind off things. Come on!”

However, the fact that he was supposed to be in hiding had greatly limited their choices in hanging out. He was supposed to stay holed up in his room, only allowed to go down into the actual cafe once it was closed. Ann had brought a whole arsenal of makeup and magazines at their disposal, but after all that was finished, that was it. It was the reason why Akira had practically given up and stayed in his room — Amongst other reasons.  He  _ was _ “dead,” so hypothetically they could sneak out and do something, but they took enough risks to get here. Ann had practically whined about it too, begging for Akira just do to it, but it’d be too suspicious for the two of them to be together in public. The two had been lounging on the couch and bed because of the predicament, a magazine on Ann’s face and Akira choosing to stare at the ceiling. Once again it was just the music again to fill in the silence, they had already given up trying to brainstorm ideas, but Ann didn’t want to leave just yet. Something about worrying he’d turn into a slob the minute she walks out, which was probably true, but he chose to deny it.

It wasn’t until the radio switched to a familiar song, and he could hear loud footsteps springing up and over to him. He looked down towards Ann whose hand was extended out towards him, he smiled and gladly took it, shuffling over to the middle of the room. It was one of Ann’s favorite songs, one that instantly brought joy wherever and whenever it was played. It was hard not a dance to it, or refuse Ann’s request. They danced around the attic hand and hand, giggling and smiling the whole way.

It was always so liberating being with Ann. Many times before they’ve hung out to get over or forget things and it’s been like that ever since they first met back at the station. Their first impressions were a little awkward if not prying, but since then she’s always found it comforting to share anything and everything with him, and him the same to her. Her friendliness was breathtaking and her headstrong personality was able to energize a guy like him. Not only that but he’s been able to see her grow and mature throughout their time as friends, and he was glad to see her seek help and succeed ever since Kamoshida. And since then he’s learned to live a little, mostly due to the Phantom Thieves as a whole. He didn’t know if he could ever thank them enough for the things they’ve done for him. He was just happy that he could lend an ear or hand whenever he could.

A little after their dance was over they had said their goodbyes, and Akira stayed seated on his bed. The music was off, the sun had set, and Akira had took to staring off in silence. Just thinking. Time was ticking, and as much as he didn’t want it to be true, he had limited time here. There was only a couple of months until the year of his probation was up and with everything that has happened to him, he almost forgot about it. And now with the realization, he used every second of the day to try to forget about it. He scoffed, Ann was right, the minute she’d leave he would become an absolute mess. Being left by himself had always led him into overthinking, almost hyper aware of the situation he was in.

As a Phantom Thief, it was his duty to save this city from the corrupt adults that controlled it, but the stress had made him forget the fact that he was still a  _ teenager _ . More importantly, how he only had a few months to be with his friends. So little time to share laughs, to have  _ fun _ , to be carefree instead of so careful. Staying holed up didn’t help his case, sure, but now it was starting to get to him. It was almost unfair. He loved being a hero, without a doubt in his mind would he put his life on the line for others and he’d do it again, but part of him felt as if he was missing out on his own childhood. Most of it was already wasted away back in his old home and it only made him feel increasingly anxious about the time left and how it was spent. He laid flat on the bed, legs still dangling on the side of it while his eyes aimlessly wandered across the ceiling.

In less seriousness, or perhaps,  _ more _ seriousness despite all the jokes and teasing, he had a limited time to be with Ryuji. To tell him how he felt, and more daringly: to learn how Ryuji felt about him. It was coming to the point where he couldn’t take all of this hopeless pining he’d been doing all these months. He wanted to be brave, to be loud like  _ him _ and just yell it at the top of lungs how this guy stole his heart. Though perhaps not as loud, he just...He wanted to be out with it, but he could never find the time. Most times Ryuji would find a way to take his breath away before he could even begin. It was starting to get  _ annoying _ , enough that Akira wanted to pull his hair out of frustration.

Before he could continue his anxious thoughts, he heard the footsteps of a certain black “cat.” Morgana had eventually made his way back into the attic and chose to sit next to him, glancing at him for a moment. Soon, he stretched and pressed into his side, snuggling up to Akira. He could tell that Morgana was still attentively watching him, although he gave him space by staying quiet, not really nagging or pushing him. Living with Akira long enough made him know when he wanted just to think in silence  _ without  _ any smart comments. It was always a kind gesture, one that earned a soft pet out of gratitude. 

At some point he crawled onto his chest, the pressure on his ribs was intense but almost comforting; it allowed him to stay grounded. He said quietly, as if he could read his thoughts, “You’re going to miss them, huh.” 

“More than the world.”


	4. Akira

It was another quiet day at the cafe, allowing Akira access to the downstairs without the concern of being spotted by anyone. Unfortunately, no one would be coming over to spend the day with him and instead Futaba had messaged him to meet her downstairs. It was about something urgent, and it was easy to assume that it was on the topic of their next mission. Despite feeling almost restless throughout the week from doing nothing, the thought of returning to the metaverse left him unnerved. He had been anticipating this moment, to no longer need to be waiting for the right time to strike, to finally get his hands on some action, but it was almost like he didn’t want to. In fact, he dreaded the thought. As if he wasn’t as ready as he wanted to be. He had to admit, there was an unpleasant feeling tied to it, as if he was scared to embark on this adventure. It was their usual work, but this wasn’t an ordinary target. The choices made here were crucial and a lot more risky than what they did back at the previous palace. He didn’t want to continue for fear of failure, but not doing anything would be worse.

However, that didn’t stop him from finding out he had woken up in the middle of the afternoon and to the sight of several angry messages from Futaba. He winced, she had said she wanted him to be up early — though if that was the case she _wouldn't_ have texted him at two in the morning. And with that he groggily pulled himself up from the bed, taking his sweet time while doing so — out of spite. Eventually he decided to trudge down the stairs, spotting Futaba sprawled over the counter, face pressed against the wood and looking straight at him. She scrunched up her face and let out a huff of frustration, slowly bringing herself up and pointing at him.

“Akira! I specifically said to wake up _early_ , can’t you at least get that right?” He shrugged and took a seat by her, she rolled her eyes at him. It was practically useless to try to get Akira to wake up early, and more often than not his friends were used to waiting for hours for him to get up when they wanted to hang out. The urgency of something was not much of an exception.

“Makoto’s gonna beat your ass ya know — Well, she’s not super about violence so instead she’ll go mega-mom on you.”

“She’s not mad, just disappointed,” He playfully muttered. He remembered when she had actually said that phrase, and how embarrassed she was when everyone had caught her on it. Even Futaba laughed at the mention of it. “Anyway, what was this urgent thing you wanted to bug me about?”

She gave out a sigh, “I know you’re having fun and all hanging out with everyone and stuff — And we’re all glad you’re not in a depressive slump _again_ but, not everyday is gonna be like this y’know. We have to get serious.”

His body tensed at the statement, with him averting his eyes elsewhere. He didn’t want to admit that he’d like it to stay that way— And would it be selfish if he did? He knew he couldn’t slack off like this, but having normal teenage fun was always a nice feeling.

The sound of Futaba’s laptop flipping open brought his attention back to her; the first thing on her screen being a news article. He leaned closer, looking back at her briefly, and then back at the screen again.

“It’s Shido. Time’s ticking.” He nodded; the article simply stated the election was in his favor, and the many false plans he wanted to put in place. Weeks ago they had discovered he had a palace and of his selfish desires. One that Akira had experienced firsthand, him being the person who brought him here in the first place.

His jaw clenched and he tapped his fingers loudly at the counter, “When can we get everyone here?”

“I can call ‘em right now if you want. We’ve been waiting for this moment.”

He had been too.

* * *

 He didn’t know how else to describe Shido’s palace other than...pretentious. Palaces took form of a selfish desire, how the person viewed the world and others, so of course it’d be distorted and exaggerated. Their first palace was their own school-turned-castle, but none of the previous palaces could ever amount to this. It was a glitzy cruiseship in the midst of their city, a sunken wasteland. The inside of it wasn’t any better either with red carpets, sparkly bar counters, and callous adults playing some sort of masquerade. It made him sick to his stomach knowing this was the man who could be leading this very country very soon. He would steer it onto the right path he said, becoming some sort of savior for the lost. The reality of it being only the people he’d ever consider keeping in his stay tied with his sick satisfaction of others’ needed dependence on him. He had his own grudge held against this putrid “leader,” but Akira worried more about the people that would have to deal with him and the countless lives slayed in order to get him here.

Several times this boiling anger got to him. Maybe he’d be oddly rough with the shadow interrogations, he’d hit _hard_ during fights and almost unfairly, or he’d be so caught up in such pent up anger and bundled up nerves he’d get antsy and couldn’t stop moving and twitching. He knew such imagery wasn’t good for a calm leader, but something about this palace — about _Shido_ woke something up inside him. It was like when he first summoned his persona, the adrenaline mixed with the rebel spirit bursting out of him like an explosion. Feelings that he couldn’t hold in because of how much they burned and rolled out like flames. He could almost hear the smooth but crackling laughter of Arsene in the back of his head as it booming in his chest. It was as energizing as it was powerful — if not a bit terrifying.

At some point, when they discovered a treasure chest, Ryuji had walked up behind him and patted his back like he usually did. However this time he grabbed a hold of his shoulder and pulled him to the side as well, it caused Akira to whip his head towards his direction, to which Ryuji jerked back in response. Akira shook his head, rubbing at his forehead and muttering exhausted apologies.

He patted at his arm reassuringly, but whispered in a concerned tone, “It’s okay man, but are...you okay?” He tilted his head in response, choosing not to say anything in fear of it coming out too aggressive.

“You’re tense dude. And got like, a permanent scowl on. Y’wanna head back or somethin’? Everyone’s worried.”

He shook his head at him, “I’m fine, fine. It’s just... _Shido_. Something about this place makes me feel...angry.”

“Never knew y’could feel emotions — _Ow!_ ” He rubbed at the arm Akira punched, pouting, “I need this arm to swing ya know...But seriously — You sure you good?”

“Even if I wasn’t alright, we don’t have enough time to stop now. I’ll be fine okay? You guys need to stop worrying about me all the time.”

“Y’kinda make it hard not to— _Ow!_ Okay, okay…”

He tried to push the anger back inside, but the more they explored the palace, the more it continued to rise up. They learned about Shido’s connections, what he’s done to “help” them and the losses that were caused by it. The shitty reasoning and even shittier excuse behind their actions and how they were too young to see why it was alright. They were nuisances, not legitimate people, just obstacles that got in the way of their corrupted plans. At this point, however, it wasn’t just him that was angry anymore. While it was true everyone thought Shido was a horrible man, for the longest time they had tried to not let their emotions get the best of them, but now everyone was looking for utter vengeance. For them, for _him_ , for everyone dead or alive. It pushed them to the very end, where they were getting close to finding the treasure, energized by the anger that dared to eat them alive. The rebellious feelings that all brought them here, that made this act of justice possible. Up until—

Until it crashed.

He might not have liked him anymore. It took him a while to convince himself that he really did betray the team — He still had nightmares about what he said and did to him — but he was another victim to this unfair system. To this arrogant _adult_. He was manipulated, with no hope left in his heart, and now he was gone. All to save them, for whatever reason. The air around them became stagnant and mournful while his burning anger was quickly snuffed out. He was at a loss for words, there was nothing he could say that could comfort his team. Hell, he couldn’t even look at them. They couldn’t save him, no, if only they had met sooner.

It had taken a while for the team to get back on track. None of them could move, not after the tragic scene that unraveled in front of them. But they had to, while they couldn’t have kept him alive, he could keep his promise.

Shido would be going down.

* * *

It had taken them a while to give out the calling card. It was hard for any of them to find the want to get up again. Most of them were mourning the lost, and Akira was still reliving the moment. Most nights it kept him up. Morgana tried to get him to sleep, as per usual, but to no avail.

“We’re getting close to the deadline, the more we push this back the more trouble it will cause.” Morgana told him to gather everyone to the cafe, and Makoto wasted no time in bringing up the issue they were running into. She had taken a seat across from him in the booth, resting clasped hands on the table matched with a stern expression.

Yusuke had stepped into the conversation next, arms crossed and standing silently behind him, “Will you be alright, Akira? It’s been said that you haven’t been getting the right amount of sleep these few days.”

He sighed, leaning against his chair, “It’s true, but that won’t stop me from carrying this out. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He could see they gave him some disapproving looks, it was true their leader was coming apart at the seams lately.

“I have some plants in the school garden that might help! Would you like me to get them beforehand Akira?” Haru piped up, enthusiastically jumping up from her seat next to Makoto before quickly settling back down bashfully. He laughed slightly at her actions, but nodded in agreement.

“That would be a great idea. I’m sure we all need a pick me up after what happened…”

The mood quickly dropped then, grim expressions and eyes to the floor. No one wanted to be reminded, but he wanted to get rid of the elephant in the room. It was part of the reason they were pushing so close to the deadline and the sooner it was acknowledged the better they’d feel and the faster they could get on the right track. No one knew what to say after it was thrown out into the conversation, however.

It wasn’t until Futaba spun around on her seat to face them, laptop loudly flipping open with a groan to match the volume, “Alright losers, are we gonna mope around here or do something? My Futaba cannon is ready.”

In front of them was a virus with a video attached to it, the first part was of their logo, then to another small animation, to Shido himself. Right by it was a detailed script writing out what everyone would say. Weeks ago they had mentioned for such a big name man as himself, an ordinary calling card simply wouldn’t work. They had considered all the possible ways, but nothing stood out or seemed feasible to do. Futaba had really outdone herself with this, not only would Shido see it, but the rest of Japan. They all grinned at each other, this was their moment.

And soon, they were live. They stood in their places in front of the camera, waiting for Futaba to give them the okay to start speaking. The broadcast would be displayed all across the country and they couldn’t mess it up, they only had one shot at making sure this got through Shido and the people living here, and to make sure they sounded as confident as they wanted to be. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was a bit nervous about this whole thing, but such an event felt so exhilarating and _right_ he couldn’t wait to begin. Once everyone said their parts and the lights went off with everyone standing in such commanding stances, Akira couldn’t help but grin. Never would he have imagined for them to get this far, to _go_ this far in order to take actions against the corrupt elite. For any of this to have worked in the first place.

It seemed like everyone else was slipping into their parts nicely as well. Ann drawled out her parts nicely, a smooth tempo that guaranteed the attention of others. At times she would laugh condescendingly— He knew part of her confidence was influenced by her great love for villains. Makoto was commanding with the way she talked, carefully picking out the right words meant to intimidate their target. Haru had drawn from how she spoke when they first met her, detailed words with emphasis in the right places. Phrases one would never forget, something you’d hear straight from a hero. Yusuke was stern and meticulous, giving out most of the facts in a clean cut way with Ryuji jumping in every once and awhile. And Ryuji— Ryuji was so _him_. He could see that he had to resist the urge to, quite literally, jump around once he got to talk paired with how wonderfully loud he was. He was confident and bursting with energy, emphasizing the right words with rightfully placed crass almost as if to mock Shido. To end his part, he looked towards Akira with a bright grin that almost made him forget his own line.

He scoffed, “Ain’t that right, leader?”

Looking straight at the camera, he took a step forward, calmly saying, “Yes, before that happens, we will take this country!”

The lights were no longer dim and instead, fully lit up the area; Futaba gave them the signal that the broadcast was now over. Some let out sighs from the signals, others leaned against the wall out of exhaustion, but they all gave each other hopeful looks. It was bound to have gotten his attention now, next step: Stealing that treasure from him.


	5. Akira

He knew he shouldn’t have let him do it, but he was so ready to save them, even with that leg of his, he didn’t want to stop him. _Hell_ , he didn’t even know if he could stop him, he didn’t want to doubt him for even a second or let him doubt himself. Ever since the start he’s been training himself to get used to his injury, to try to get back to what he once was and Akira was so proud of him for doing so. How could he grab that from him again? But god, if that meant never seeing him again then was it the right idea?

They wouldn’t be alive right now if it wasn’t for him, but he wanted him to see his success instead of dying with that stupid smile on his face. A loud explosion had went off and smoke rolled in, only showing that he was completely gone. He never made it on the boat and they couldn’t find him anywhere now. Had he made it safely somewhere else? No, if that was so he’d already be there with them. If that was so then they wouldn’t have gotten out of the metaverse worried, scared, and frantically searching for even a glimpse of that bright, blonde hair. There was no sign, no trace of him anywhere. They shouted his name, ran wherever they could without getting caught by the security but still nothing. For the first time he wanted to break down, shout out his name hoping that maybe, just _maybe_ he’ll hear it and come running to him. Despite the tears that were threatening to come out, he couldn’t give up, nor could he show the team how badly Ryuji’s sudden sacrifice was getting to him.

However it seemed that the others were slowing down in their search, the weight of another possible death — another _sacrifice_ — was starting to dawn on all of them. What were they going to do without him? What was _Akira_ going to do without him? Besides being his crush, he was the closest friend he’s ever had — The first real friend he’s ever had. His right hand man, gone, forever. Such a death would keep him up for weeks, months even. Could he even continue being a Phantom Thief with the knowledge of a team member now missing? He had no time to prepare himself for such a situation, no time to think of how to cope, or to even allow the information to sink in.

Makoto had hesitantly walked over to him, placing a hand on him that he flinched at despite the caution put into the action. She bit her lip, but soon looked at him sternly, “Akira, don't you think it might be time to give up?”

“We have to find him, Makoto,” He had steely replied, which surprised Makoto, but such a rude outburst crumbled easily. He had taken a shaky breath and clenched his fists, blinking wildly to suppress the tears begging to come out. His voice came out in hitches, “I...I just, I don't, I don't kn—”

She loosened her grip around his arm, pulling him closer in an attempt to comfort him. Such a broken side of him was something she was accustomed to seeing every now and then, her being the only one he could trust in sharing it. Not even Ryuji had seen it, out of fear of not looking as cool as he thought Akira was. She whispered to him, but her voice was dejected, almost scared, “I know. But...It doesn't look like the search is turning out well—”

“Maaaan, that was close…” They looked in the direction of the voice, which sounded oddly familiar, though with Akira’s panicked nerves he couldn’t piece together who it could be. “Why can’t palaces like, disappear normally? That explosion really hurt…”

“You didn’t die?” Haru had called out, and the rest of the group hurriedly went over to the noise once they realized who it was. Akira had slowly followed behind, things felt like they were happening too fast for him to catch up.

“Huh?”

“You had us so _worried_ ,” Ann had almost growled out. Her voice was filled with so much grit— Why? Who was she so mad at, just for being worried? He rubbed at his eyes, trying to focus on the person in front of them. It was already too late when Akira had finally registered that the person they were talking to was Ryuji.

He wanted to happily run out to him, like he once did when Akira came back, but everyone else had other plans. A loud slap was heard, followed by everyone slowly crowding in Ryuji. He tried to approach them to stop, but the damage had already been dealt. Another loud slam, a punch to the gut, a kick at the shins, but absolutely no sound from Ryuji. It left a sick feeling in his stomach, and a burning anger at himself for not doing anything. He was too shocked, too overwhelmed, and it felt like his feet were permanently rooted to the ground. It was their meeting with the old track team all over again. With Ryuji still being so _calm_ and taking hits, and Akira doing nothing once again. Once they were done they just up and left, not caring that Ryuji was semi-conscious against a pole. When he finally gathered the courage to walk over to him, he dropped to his knees beside him, but he couldn’t even meet eyes with him.

“You mad at me too? You...y’can punch me too...If you want,” He had sputtered out between coughs and loud heaves. He had tried to let out a chuckle as if to lessen the tension, but it only lead to more coughs. Akira had shot a glare at him, but quickly softened his expression, he didn’t want to repeat what had already happened.

He breathed out, “I was so worried. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He paused for a moment, long enough to hear a surprised gasp from Ryuji’s end. He didn’t know what was worse, the team beating him up, or Ryuji always prepared to take a hit. Never little kindness like this. “Are you okay? You can come over to LeBlanc and we can talk about it. If you want.”

* * *

He was thankful that Sojiro didn’t question when he had walked in with Ryuji leaning on his shoulder with bruises that bloomed across his face and arms, but he could tell that Ryuji was rather...ashamed for coming in like this. The entire trip back to the cafe was like that in fact, and it was now Ryuji who couldn’t look at him. It was like he was trying to curl into himself as a way to distance himself from Akira, to distance himself from the situation he was in. All the while Akira tried to be the utmost gentle with him in any way he could, in order to let him know that he didn’t have to worry about being any sort of nuisance.

Akira had shooed Morgana out of the room. He didn’t bother to explain, just a shot a glare at him and gestured him out. Sure, he was a cat, what could he have done then? But he had to be one of the biggest offenders. Ryuji would feel a lot more comfortable without hearing any smart remarks either.

He helped him settle down on the bed, taking a seat next him while still giving him space. He let it be quiet for a little while, as to not overwhelm him.

Eventually, he turned to face him, it felt redundant, but he asked again, “Are you okay?”

“Everythin’s okay. You don’t needa worry ‘bout me y’know,” He replied back, but despite what he said everything about him seemed to be elsewhere. His gaze and his voice both drifting off and away from Akira. Like he wanted to get away. It only seemed to worry Akira more.

“No one else seems to be, so someone has to. I want to.” He sounded rather harsh, but it was not directed towards him, but instead their supposed friends. Nothing could ever make him understand what they did, and that only fed at the anger simmering inside of him. Every time he looked at him, at each bruise splattered on his body, felt like a punch to the gut.

“Can I...touch them? — The bruises?”

“Yeah, s’fine.” Even with the aloofness in his words, it was hard to miss Ryuji’s want for all the kindness he was giving him. Without question, he had quickly leaned forward to get closer to him, but Akira never mentioned it, out of fear that he’d pull away once caught.

He — perhaps selfishly — reached towards his hair first instead of the bruises, lightly combing through the strands. It had been something he had been wanting to do forever, and for such spiky hair, it was surprisingly soft. As he pushed away his bangs he had to resist the urge to plant a kiss on his forehead, he didn't want to make it any more awkward than it already was. Although, even more surprisingly, it seemed as if Ryuji was alright with the sudden curiosity, not even flinching at the touch. He still quickly went to doing what he asked to do, carefully inspecting at each bruise that was visible. The skin underneath his fingers were warm and oddly soft, a direct contrast from how calloused he remembered his hands were. But each touch brought up winces that could be heard and pained expressions to match. It made Akira want to be angry, _for_ him. For the sudden dismal and quiet Ryuji. For the Ryuji who was so angry when Akira got hurt, but practically accepted it when he himself did. He always stood up for himself, except when it was about physical harm. But why?

He pulled back, he knew why, but he always tried to deny it.

“It didn’t bring up any bad memories did it?” Ryuji had quickly begun to pull back from him after the question, mouth open slightly out of surprise. He supposed that it was unusual to have it mentioned, or that Akira even remembered that detail — The others hadn’t, apparently. Although, almost instantly he sunk lower into himself, face twisted into a small scowl. Maybe a bit too invasive. He tried again.

“You know, they shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

Ryuji only shrugged, glancing at him for a second before sinking even closer into himself. He mumbled, “Eh, I made ‘em worry. S’my fault in the end, so I deserved it.” It was unfathomable how nonchalant he acted about the event, while everything he said made him tense up in return. Really, it reminded him of how he was, and that only made it scarier. Was this how Ryuji felt when he did the same thing?

“I was worried too, but I didn't kick the shit out you,” He continued to sound rougher each time he talked, the conversation only seeming to rile him up further. He could see Ryuji flinch at the rise in his tone however. He took a deep breath to try and dial it down.

“Well...That's because—”

“Because what?” He interrupted him before he could finish, flicking his eyes up at him, “Friends _don't_ do that, _especially_ with your background...I'm just— I'm so sorry I didn't do anything.” He almost choked at his last set of words, rubbing at his eyes before choosing to look down at his hands. He could get mad at the team all he wanted, but he only contributed by doing nothing. If only he noticed sooner. If only he just did _something_.

Another long silence. Akira kept his head down, hands now limp on his lap. He could hear a small, pitying breath from Ryuji, “Hey man...I...You did do somethin’. You, uh, actually showed y’cared about someone like me. Thanks.”

“Thank you,” He shook his head however, “But this isn't about me, it’s about your well-being. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine...Kinda. Sheesh, is this how _I_ sound like?” He didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was grinning, he found himself doing the same as well. It felt a little embarrassing, to be doing the same things he teased him for. He dropped it for now, he knew Ryuji would come around to tell him eventually. He pulled himself up soon after, gesturing towards him to wait there as he headed downstairs. The cafe was closed now, so Sojiro wouldn’t question why he was bringing up a bag of ice to his room. He sat back down in front of him, starting to gently place the ice on the bruises around his neck.

“I can do this by myself y’know…” He grumbled, and Akira chuckled at the red tint that quickly showed up on his face. He averted his eyes elsewhere, “I, uh, have to go soon anyways. Don’t really wanna but—”

“Then stay,” He said, rather softly this time. He noticed Ryuji lock eyes with him for a moment then, although he didn’t notice his own hand go up to cup the blonde's cheek. “The bad is almost over, we have a long break ahead of us again. You don’t have to see them during it if you don’t want to.”

“Uh, Akira…” He could feel his face getting hotter on his— Ah, he pulled his hand away the minute he noticed, his own face now flushed with red. He mumbled something incomprehensible out of embarrassment.

Ryuji let it slide however, turning to say, “Think my mom’ll be fine with it, don’t wanna worry her anyway. With the bruises an’ all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so id like to say first off, im so sorry for making this turn for the worse but i now have to write all this angst so were in this together. also secondly, this is kind of old compared to my more recent art now but, here's the drawing that started it all: https://twitter.com/avianmalware/status/887796389664534528 ! seriously, this entire fic was based on this *sole* drawing idea. ive been waiting to write this for weeks, haha.


	6. Akira

It was a little surprising when he found himself waking up earlier than Ryuji. The two were not morning people— Despite the many times Ryuji had done 5 in the morning jogs, somehow— but never has he ever found himself up before him. He was sprawled on the couch, almost like he was trying to find comfort on the cramped thing with those bruises plastered on his skin. A small, pained look rested on the blond’s face and he sighed, it had been a long day for the both of them yesterday. Longer for Ryuji. Akira thought it was best to leave him there, while he tiptoed out of the room towards the cafe.

Sojiro was kind enough to already make curry for them, and it looked like Futaba and Morgana were nowhere to be seen. He didn't want to deal with them right now, he didn't know when he would.

“He's still asleep?”

Akira nodded at him, taking a seat at the counter to eat his breakfast. For a while that was all that was said, Sojiro turning to prepare his food after the confirmation. Every now and then he would make glances at him however, and there was this uneasiness that enveloped the cafe. It was like their usual conversations, although a bit less calming, just the two having silent exchanges rather than using words. Usually, it was more of a comfort, he'd been living under his care long enough for the both to be able to read the other. He didn’t have to voice out his own stresses anymore. And as much as Sojiro liked to hide it, he knew he was worried about them. It wasn't until later when he eyed Akira carefully, did he finally say something.

“Should I know what happened last night?” The only sound was the clinking of his fork to his plate, but Sojiro still patiently waited.

“It's none of your concern,” He coldly whispered. He settled his fork down, but kept his eyes on his plate. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable enough to spill, it wasn't his story to tell anyway. Sojiro could see the slight twist in face, fortunately.

He took longer than a moment to mull over his options, arms crossed and eyes lowered in disapproval. Most times he couldn't prod an answer out of Akira. This was one of those times. He sighed anyway, making his way to the counter, “Look kid...Just look after yourself okay?”

“I'll try to.” It earned him a sound of disbelief from Sojiro. He of all people would know that it never worked out so well. He would have laughed at it too, if it weren't for how stiff he felt at the moment. “Oh, Sojiro, can you make sure no one comes upstairs while Ryuji is here? Even Morgana.”

He eyed him once more before waving him off, “Bring up his food up then, I'll be opening up soon.”

* * *

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn't mind it. The two spent the day hanging out in the attic, but the usual boisterous noise that filled up the place was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a creeping silence that grabbed the room and its grip was unable to be shaken off. It made the place feel more cramped than usual with the added air of melancholy. The silence dug under his skin, making him all wound up and so _restless_.

It was all because of Ryuji. He didn't blame him, no, but he had become so soft-spoken, so shakened by his own thoughts that it seemed to completely change him. It was troubling, and he hated to admit that he felt a bit impatient in waiting for things to ramp up again. At the same time, the entire encounter felt so _special,_ like he was showing a side of him that he never showed anyone else. He knew Sojiro had told him to take care of himself first, but he felt as if it was his duty to put Ryuji in front of him instead— Or at least teach Ryuji how to care for himself first. It didn’t seem like the guy had any selfish bone in his body. Admirable but, dangerous. Especially at a time like this. It made him feel torn on whether or not he should smile or frown at the thought. He tried not to appear so doting or worried anyway, for his sake.

The TV had been flicked on, its purpose to serve as white noise to distract from the nagging feeling the silence gave. Ryuji was curled into himself again, seated at the very edge of the couch and staring off at the floor. He hadn’t moved or talked since, and it made Akira almost hesitant to approach him, too worried any sudden movement would cause some sort of panic. Still, he went to rummage through his shelves, plucking out two books from it. One was a manga he was fond of— He remembered how Ryuji saved up all his money for it, talking about how much he wanted to share his favorite volume no matter how expensive. He figured that it might cheer him up a bit if he read it, especially since they couldn’t quite do anything else because of him still being in hiding. He lightly tapped at his shoulder and he took the book with nervous hands that fumbled when he tried to open it. He flashed his first warm smile in a while, one that almost made him drop his own book in response. He took a seat next to him, although he gave him some space, in an attempt to ease the tension.

And it actually seemed like Ryuji was feeling better once it happened. After a while, his expression had softened along with the corners of his mouth curving up in a small smile. Although his eyes had yet to regain its warm quality and it took him more than a while to get through each page, but it was still an improvement. It allowed Akira to relax a little and enjoy his own book, one he couldn't quite concentrate on for his eyes were always elsewhere.

Even so, his mind always found a way to drift back into the uneasiness. The entire event was messed up; no matter how many times he — reluctantly — replayed it he couldn’t get his head to wrap around it. The only thing he was sure of was the ever present anger that hadn’t left since. There had been a distant rumbling in his chest, the feeling of his own persona now festering in his sudden burst of emotions. He could’ve sworn he could hear the manic whispers of Arsene every now and then. Although the rebellious feelings were now annoying, more than anything else. Especially when it didn’t help. How the usual blood rushing feeling didn’t break through fast enough to do _anything_. He knew dwelling in past mistakes would do nothing now, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He bit his lip, brow narrowing down into a crease. He wanted to help him, wanted to alleviate any pain that resurfaced because of it, but he didn’t know how. And he didn’t want to force it out of him. It would come out eventually, and he hoped that it’d be soon. Seeing him in this restless state only hurt to see as it went on.

His own restless thoughts would've continued, if it wasn't for the soft sigh that broke those thoughts along with a sudden warmth against his side. There sat Ryuji, who decided to close the distance between them. Who decided to _lean_ against him. His eyes were still on the manga, as if this was all just so _casual_  to do. Which, he had to admit, wasn't completely wrong. He couldn't deny that they were a touchy feely kind of friendship — He already lost count on how many times Ryuji liked to wrap an arm around his shoulder — but there was also an added fact that Akira was still hopelessly crushing on him. As comfortable as it could be at times, this was too sudden for him to make sense of it. Was he making a move? First the hand hold and now this...Had he always been making moves? Was it Akira who was oblivious? He shook his head and shifted a bit so that he didn’t come off as tense, even though it looked as if Ryuji’s full attention was still on his own book. It was embarrassing to see that he probably was just overthinking it, but he added that to the long list of other mixed signals the blond oh so loved to send.

Though it felt like the tension was finally melting away, it now being replaced with a new hopeful sense of comfort. He felt himself leaning back into Ryuji, now finally able to focus on something other than the incident. Even though it wasn't his problem, Ryuji’s presence felt reassuring in ways that felt like he was being helpful in his own quiet way. It was probably the actual reason behind him leaning on him, and he’d be glad if that was the case.

What he failed to notice however, was the grip that kept tightened against his book. Hot white knuckles that squeezed at the cover before it finally slammed shut. He took a quick glance at Ryuji, whose face was pulled into a grimace. Despite the emotion found in his actions, his voice was completely deadpan.

“I almost died.” The realization managed to deafen the room, quickly making Akira set his book aside and ready to console him. Ryuji sat there for a moment, his lips forming a tight line and eyes unblinking, still trying to process the information. He gripped his head in his hands, voice continuing to go up after each exasperation, “Why did they do that t’me? Why did I deserve that?”

He didn’t know. He could never come up with a reason or an excuse for any of it to have happened to him. But he wished he could find a way to travel back just to stop it. He wanted to tell him about how much he loved him, how he did the right thing and how he was so beautiful, and so brave for it. He wanted to hold his hand and plant a million kisses on his knuckles, his cheeks, and his hair just to show how grateful and _loved_ he was. He wanted to hold him gently in his arms, but knew he had to hold back despite the amount of love that poured out of him every hurt look he made. For now, he rested a hand on him, resisting the heartfelt temptation.

“You didn’t deserve that. But I don’t...I can’t think of any reason why they would do that to you. They shouldn’t have,” He simply put, watching and waiting to see Ryuji finally calm down. The grip at his hair eventually relaxed before falling down to his sides completely. For a while he was just fiddling with the manga, passing the book back and forth from his hand.

“It’s jus’ been on my mind the whole time and this book ain’t helping. Thanks though.” He let in a sharp breath and harshly leaned back on the couch, “I just...School’s tomorrow. What if I run into one of ‘em? They gonna hit me again? Pretend it didn’t happen? I don’t wanna talk to them…”

“Well I’m unfortunately stuck in this wretched attic for a couple more days,” He let out his own annoyed exhale, just towards the fact that he’s still in _here_ and he could not take any more days being stuck here. He hoped it lightened the mood a bit, he could hear a small snort coming his way anyhow. He patted at his leg, “But feel free to text me when you need to, ‘kay?”

“Yeah…” He leaned on him once again, semi-covering his face into his side. Akira wrapped an arm around him, lightly squeezing him. He looked up but couldn’t meet his eyes, a light blush already on his cheeks. “Hey, um….Not t’be sappy or anythin’ but, I’m glad you’re here, Akira.”

He smiled. As much as he would like it to be, he knew that he would never be able to fix his problems in an instant or truly ever wash away his own trauma. But he knew that this was the start of a happier time, where Ryuji could finally learn to love himself. What unfortunately came with that knowledge was that he knew he would have to cast his own affections aside for now, for his sake. Time was ticking, but it didn’t matter right now.


	7. Ryuji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo a chapter that isnt labeled akira ! now theres reason as to why they were all named that ! ~~totally not the fact that i suck at chapter titles~~

The world no longer held the same warmth the minute he left Akira. Instead it was suffocating, like a million eyes were on him and each and every one of them were filled with disgust. He was given no time to breathe, but plenty of time to fall into bad habits. Regret and sadness waxed over his anger but it still rumbled in the pit of his chest, still ached to lash out at anyone who dared to interact with him. He tried to keep it down, but a permanent scowl was glued onto his face, and the pent up feelings only made him shake.

But mostly, it reminded him of that damn Kamoshida. He did the right thing then and he did the right thing now, he was sure of it, so why do people only get mad at him for it? He remembered the sneers from his track team and the look of disdain given to him before they up and left him with that broken leg of his. He remembered the lecture given to him at the office, his mother’s tears, that shit eating grin of that damn _bastard_. And now it was happening all over again. What was he doing wrong? What did the world have against him?  He didn’t know if he would ever find the answer for it, didn’t know if there was, other than the sick feeling that he just deserved it. For whatever reason. He tried to not think about it too much though, dwelling on past problems like that would only lead him into another attack, and he didn’t want to cause a scene before school.

It seemed like fate had other plans. Once he entered school, all eyes really were on him now. Now accompanied by hushed tones that said, “ _T_ _hat Sakamoto kid got into a fight again._ ” Or, “ _What pissed him off this time? That guy bites off more than he can chew._ ”

But worst of all would always be, “ _He’s just like his father, huh?_ ”

Those words would always echo in his head. Not even the teachers had enough mercy in them to stop it, instead choosing to repeat the same thing. Stuck up students were one thing, but the disapproving eyes of adults always managed to carry more weight. Always left this burning feeling that managed to stir up his soul. He didn’t want to get into another fight again though, choosing to keep his head down and not bothering to meet eyes with anyone. He just wished there was a way to hide the bruises all over his face. There was this twisted feeling of comfort that came with it however; there was something gratifying in not needing to come up with an excuse. To fill in that mold everyone thought he was just to piss them off.

But it also felt lonely.

Most times it didn’t bother him —  At least not as much as it used to. The thoughts of others couldn’t hurt him when he could just pop into his own circle of friends and know he had a place. He knew that there were people who liked him and that’s all that could ever matter to him. Now? He didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know who to trust. The students of Shujin never ceased to let him down, they would always be like this. That never changed. But those same disgusted tones were now heard in his own so-called _friends_. Was it too stupid of him to actually have thought they saw him as an equal? To actually have had a place to belong, that place being with them?

Was it all just a cheap joke? That he was only good until he was useless?

All it did was give him a headache. But there was nothing that could distract him from the ever encroaching questions that weighed him down. He almost considered ditching school to avoid all his problems, but he felt like he had to do this. For Akira.

The name sounded fond in his thoughts. He was the only one who had ever shown him true kindness, the only friend that didn’t walk away from him. The one that _refused_ to. It felt incredibly nice, and every time he did it was breathtaking. The guy had a lot of his own problems and yet he managed to make time for him so that _Ryuji_ , of all people, could feel comfortable. And he was freaking stubborn about it too, but in a good way. It was nice to have someone pushing so hard for his safety. He just wished his feelings would cooperate. No matter how much he wanted to reach out for his help, part of him always wanted to pull back, and that part always won. Despite the amount of trust he had in him, he was still worried that it might happen with him. He couldn’t fathom the thought of disappointing Akira too. He tried to wave away his imagination before he could do so — He was already feeling bad enough.

Especially once he entered his class. He was late — again —  because of how absorbed he was in his own thoughts. The teacher didn’t even bother to say anything, just made a disapproving sound while he could spot a portion of the class trying to stifle their laughter. He grumbled. More whispers. He just jammed his hands in his pockets and plopped down in his seat. Once the teacher’s attention wasn’t on him, he quickly took out his phone, tapping at Akira’s name. It was probably too early for the guy to be awake, but giving him a text would at least soothe some nerves.

Before he could even put it back in his pocket, his phone buzzed. He quirked a brow and rechecked the time, it was way too early. Akira never woke up at around now, especially since he didn’t have school, let alone would he reply this quickly if he did. What got him up at this time?

 **Akira:** Never said you couldn't stay. Though I don’t want you to ditch just for me.

 **Akira:** Wait, aren’t you in class right now? Dude.

 **Ryuji:** you said i could text you whenever so i did :p

 **Ryuji:** not feelin so great anyways, so.

 **Ryuji:** also bro wtf. its early for you whyre u up.

 **Ryuji:** its almost live uve been waitin for me to txt you :? durin class :?

 **Akira:** No reason, and definitely not that reason. Just felt like being up early. Problem?

 **Ryuji:** uh huh. w/e u say bro.

 **Akira:** Shush. But anyway, I did say you could but still. At least try to get good grades. For me?

 **Akira:** We can talk about what’s bothering you after class, ok?

 **Ryuji:** fiiiine

 **Ryuji:** but ur a jerk, jus so yknow

* * *

 

He stretched his arms on the railing, rolling his neck in an attempt to shake out his nerves. His past classes made him feel nauseous, but he was lucky enough to sneak up to the roof without anyone noticing. The constant staring was starting to get to him, with anxious energy bubbling up in him that he felt like he was about to burst. It made him not want to go back, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, and he didn’t want to add more reasons for people to make fun of him. Ditching would still fit his image, and it sounded better than going back into that hell. Would Akira be disappointed if he didn’t attend the next few?

He sighed. He did say that they could talk about it after class, but—  Was he bothering him? All he’s been doing was making Akira worried and he didn’t want to make him feel obligated to take care of him. He still wanted to talk to him; there wasn’t anything else that could ease his anxiety, nor was there anyone else that he could talk to it about. Akira didn’t seem to mind any of the previous times, but did he feel forced? There was a huge chance he only stuck with him out of pity, he was just waiting for him to find someone better. Akira was like a star, he was leagues ahead of him, when was he going to realize he wasn’t worth the trouble? He leaned over the railing, burying his head in his arms. He’s been thinking way too much these past few days, he didn't know if he could keep up with the torment. If only things didn’t go so downhill, he wouldn't have to be scared of everyone leaving him— At least for the one that hadn't, yet.

He hovered over his friend’s contact name. He had to call him, it was the only way he could tell he wasn’t just lying in front of a screen. Admittedly, part of him just wanted to hear his voice — It felt a lot more genuine that way instead of just through text.

Again, Akira answered in mere seconds. Maybe he was just overreacting after all, the guy was a little too eager in answering his messages and calls, to which he almost laughed at. The thought of him pensively waiting over his phone for a ring seemed almost possible, he was cute sometimes.

“Everything okay?” He answered and the two words were slurred out a bit— Definitely was tired.

It took him awhile to answer, like his anxiety had snatched his voice. He gulped, and felt a little embarrassed when it came out hoarse and nervous,“Y-yeah — Well, not really, but…I’m used to it.”

“You wouldn't call me if that's case, what's the matter?” His tone was stern, which only made Ryuji feel more ashamed. It wasn’t like he was trying hard to, but Akira always managed to see right through him, even when he couldn’t see him.

“Am I….a bother?” He kicked at the railing, continuing, “People like leavin’ me for some reason...Am I annoying or somethin’? Do people jus’ stick around ‘cause they feel like they gotta?” He paused again, biting his lip before sucking in a breath, “...Do you?”

“Ryuji..,” He could hear him sigh on the other end. “No, you're not annoying at all. Those guys were assholes, honestly, and they don't deserve your time, okay? I stuck with you because I like you and you're fun to be around. You— You saved us, and now I'm helping you because I want to. And as a thank you.”

The next few minutes were silent, with Ryuji mulling it over. Part of him still couldn’t believe it, but it felt great to hear and was able to reassure him a tiny bit. He could, at the very least, trust Akira. Even so, his tone was still downtrodden, “Yeah...Thanks. I'll, um, see you after school m’kay?”

He checked the time again, there was still a few minutes until lunch ended, which was enough time for him to slip out. Someone would eventually find him on the roof if he decided to hide here, and he wasn’t going to take any chances heading back into class. He had a creeping feeling that someone was going to be holding him up if he decided to stay the whole day, although that could’ve just been the paranoia talking. If he left now, and fast enough, he would be able to get out without being caught. Though even if someone did spot him, they wouldn’t do a thing.

* * *

 

The musty, candle scented smell of his home felt...Nostalgic, for whatever reason. He had ran over there earlier in order to fetch his uniform, but he supposed he didn't stay in long enough to feel it then. It felt a little odd being back, even though he hadn't been gone for long, something about it made him feel out of place. It was dead silent— Which wasn't unusual, with his mom usually being at work and all, but there was nothing to distract him from feeling so detached.

He tip toed throughout the apartment, silently scanning each place. Still no sign of her. Which was good, he wanted to make sure he got her schedule right, so that he wouldn't accidentally walk into her. He didn't want her to see him all bruised up and in pain; he didn't want to stress her out any more than he already did. And he didn't want to try to come up with an excuse as to why he was ditching the last few classes. She already had so much on her plate, he couldn't disappoint her, not again. Although, by doing this, he felt a pang of guilt. Had he already worried her? He forgot to call her last night about where he was staying, so he was gone without a word. He got no calls her way, but he hoped she didn't get scared about his whereabouts. He went and approached his room, grabbing an empty bag and reluctantly started to put extra sets of clothes and other needed things. He’d be gone for a couple more days too, until his bruises healed. He and Akira had planned it so that he could get better. Could she handle being by herself?

It was probably why he felt so foreign in his own home. It felt a little like betrayal,with him going off to stay somewhere else without even saying anything, without even saying why. He didn't belong here, not if he was just going to up and leave like that. It was almost tempting to text her everyday, just to make sure she wasn't lonely. He cared about her so much, he didn't want to make her feel like she was a bad parent. He just needed to be somewhere else, where he couldn't worry her so much, hopefully.

Slinging the bag around his shoulder, he made his way towards the kitchen. He scribbled on a note where he'd be and posted it on the front of the fridge, before opening it as well as checking the pantry. They had some leftover food this time,  and he had plenty of time to kill. It wouldn't hurt to cook up some food for her later. He went to heat up the stove and pulled out the contents to make a quick yakisoba.

As he waited for it to finish, he fumbled around with his phone. Besides Akira, no one else had left a message on his phone, and the gesture stung. He didn't know if he wanted to talk to them or what to even say anyway, but the grip on his phone still tightened, and his headache threatened to come back. He just pulled out a seat and lazily rested his head on the cold wood, staring at his phone. He'd kill to have some genuine friends. He didn't get why people liked to lie to him so much. And he didn't like the moping feeling that always came with the realization. It reminded him of when that bastard of a “dad” was here. The sleepless nights and dull mornings. That sick feeling of emptiness. After that, the track team, and he just couldn't run away from it anymore. It was like being sad was the only thing he was allowed to feel. Friends? He couldn't have them either.

It was times like these when he wished his mom was here, he knew he couldn't talk to her about it, but she always managed to say the right things. Akira did as well but, there wasn't this nagging feeling of her leaving him that was constantly on his mind. He dragged himself out of the chair, scribbled on another note a thank you, and left the finished food in the fridge before walking out. The silence was starting to get to him.

* * *

 

“You're here early.”

Akira was seated at the foot of his bed, eyes attentively at his book, he didn't even lift them from the page when he entered. He froze the minute he closed the door, wincing, he knew he couldn't get past Akira with ditching. He slowly placed his bag down, rubbing at the nape of his neck, “Yeah...Uh, about that…”

He glanced at him for a second, a hint of worry in his tone, “You skipped?”

“Maybe?” He shot an awkward smile at him, Akira raised a brow. He just sighed, “Listen man, I jus’ couldn’t do it anymore. People like starin’ and startin’ shit. Don't think I could stand being in my class.”

As he looked at him, the arch in his brow had softened, accompanied by a slight frown. With a face like that, Ryuji couldn't look at him too long, the pitying expression always made him feel self-conscious. Although he heard him ask, almost hopefully, “Do you want to stay in tomorrow then?”

“Mm, nah. I gotta get good grades, for you, right?” He could feel his mouth quirking upwards in a grin and he couldn't help but giggle at his own joke. Part of him felt like he needed to lighten the mood before it got dark again.

Akira seemed to have caught on as he rolled his eyes, but a smile still cracked on his face. His own amusement bled into his words, “Then you shouldn't have skipped classes today!”

He shushed him, sticking his tongue out as he walked over to him. It felt rather good to slip right back into such an energetic banter. Especially after a droning, stressful morning. He almost forgot about what happened then. He sat down next to him, nudging at him, “So, how's it goin’ for you?”

“Hell.” He looked straight at him in faint agony, almost slamming his book down. He rested his face in his hand, one eye peeking out as he complained, “I've read this book like 10 times. And I'm so tired, Ryuji. I'll probably pass out while you're here.”

As he laughed, Akira jokingly pouted at him in return before going back to his reading. He rested a chin on his shoulder, peering at the book in his hands. Books weren't his thing, but it felt nice just sitting like this. The silence, something he would’ve normally considered insufferable, felt calming. All because of Akira, who seemed to ooze comfort. He always found himself being soothed around him, even liking things he wouldn’t normally find comfortable. The silence, however, brought attention to how tired he was as well. Yawning, leaned into the crook of his neck, murmuring with closed eyes, “Way ahead of ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think we can all agree that akira was definitely perched over his phone in wait of ryuji messaging him. hes gay and has nothing else to do, bless his heart. also he totally died in the end, ryuji just straight up sleeps on him like its nothing !
> 
> and of course, i _have_ to make part of this chapter about his mom. the world needs to be reminded how much he cares for her


	8. Ryuji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait ! i knew what i wanted to write for this chapter but got hit with a bad case of writers block nonetheless....hopefully it doesnt slow down the rest of my progress ^^;

Talk of that “Sakamoto Kid” had died down the next day with only leftover gossip lingering the halls; his own class already had grown tired of it. He was thankful for that, at the very least, but even with his heart rate now calm, his body still felt coiled up. Like it was anticipating something. Something he didn’t know — Well, he did but — He didn’t want to accept it. He couldn’t shake away the feeling of being on edge, all riled up and waiting for something to break out. Things were starting to get too quiet and his own paranoia still didn’t know how to shut up. Not even a slip to the roof helped calm his nerves. It was only when school finally was over, that he was starting to calm down.

It wasn’t even about the fact that he’d be out of this wretched hellhole, instead, there was something about knowing he’d be seeing Akira again that filled him with warmth. Imagining that small, but genuine smile of his, the understanding in his eyes...It felt all too much like a dream. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought as he headed down the stairs.

“Ryuji! So you really aren't dead.”

His blood boiled.

He could hear quick footsteps. Ones that only seemed to echo in his ears.

By the time he strained his head to look towards the direction of the noise, it felt like an hour had gone by. His body felt too stiff, the scene felt too familiar.

There was Ann, stomping her way over to him. Was she still mad at him? He couldn’t tell. But what he could tell was the tightening of his chest, the feeling of airiness that filled his head, although not in a good way. More like he was going to faint every time she inched closer. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with her right now. He didn’t want to. He just whipped his head back towards the stairs, hurriedly making his way down. His legs wobbled with each step, but he cared much less about tripping than of her catching up to him.

The ringing of her footsteps _still_  being there didn’t help. It didn’t help when he caught sight of Makoto, when he locked eyes with her, when he saw a twitch in her face before she looked away. Was it out of disgust? Of pity? Both? A wave of goosebumps prickled at his skin, the boiling of his blood now icy in his veins. The footsteps were getting closer.

He was just glad he used to be the track star.

It was only by the time he reached the subway did he even realize he was running. Once the fear fully flooded his system he couldn't see or hear, he just let whatever adrenaline he had in his body take the reigns. Now he was gasping for air with his hands on aching knees that felt like sludge on the concrete. His entire right side burned and he could've sworn he could taste iron in his mouth. People were probably staring at the mess he was, but he had worse problems than having a couple more rumors tacked onto him. All he cared about was making it to Akira’s place before he collapsed. The world had other plans, because of course it did, as the subway took impossibly long to pass by. The extra time would help any normal person’s breathing to even but he just couldn't seem to catch a break. Every passing minute felt like hell and by the time the subway came, he could only feebly walk into it, too slow to even snag a seat before it was all taken.

As he leaned on the pole, he was surprised he could still stand. It felt like he hit his breaking point, in fact he _knew_ he was way past it now. If there was any remaining adrenaline still in his system, it was gone now. Now everything just _hurt_. His lungs burned no matter how many times he breathed in, the dizziness in his head turned into a pulsing migraine, and his _leg_. His shitty leg ached in hot flashes, begging for release, release he couldn’t give as much as he wanted to. He just tried to put all his weight on the pole, tried to focus on the fact that he’d be seeing Akira soon and wouldn’t have to worry about any of this, tried to focus on his placating smile rather than that look on Makoto’s face, tried to focus on the soothing silence rather than the heavy footsteps.

He managed to calm himself down by the time he made it to the cafe, where he briskly walked over to the stairs, careful not to make a scene. The minute he's able to close the door, his legs gave in and he’s collapsed on the floor. And it was off to the races, everything flooding right back after all the hard work he put into calming down. No amount of breathing exercises could ever stop his own anxiety whenever it had the chance to strike. Akira had already rushed towards his side, swinging an arm around him while his other hand gently gripped Ryuji’s arm. He was cooing something he couldn't understand, his heartbeat was too loud in his ear.  
  
It took him a while for everything to sink in. He was too distracted in the subway to really digest anything, too distracted in trying not to pass out in order to think anything else. The room started to get hotter and his throat was closing up again, and yet he managed to blurt out, “They were still mad at me.”  
  
He looked up at him, eyes wide but the rest of his body motionless, aside from each heave of his chest. His throat burned, everything burned, and on top of that his leg was throbbing. His friend's mouth pulled into a frown and he brought him closer.  
  
“Why'd they do that? I...I almost died.”

There was no answer, not one he could hear anyhow, but he felt the arms around him tighten. It took a while for him to realize how close they were, now feeling cold coils against his neck. By that time, he could feel ugly, snotty tears cascading down his face paired with too loud hiccups and desperate gasps for air. It felt a little more than embarrassing that he was crying so hard on his best friend, but that didn't stop him from feverishly searching for something to hold, finally gripping at the back of his shirt and burying his head in his shoulder. Akira didn't mind the least, he was still gently shushing him, switching from patting his back to rubbing it in circles.

From all the running to all the crying he was doing, he didn't realize how much exhaustion he was holding in himself. He slumped into Akira, and everything went black soon after.

* * *

 

His eyes felt crusty when he woke up, and the fact that he _woke up_ was a surprise to him, no part of him remembered falling asleep in the first place. He felt around for a little while, whatever was beneath him was oddly soft, and definitely not the creaky couch he usually crashed on. It could only be Akira’s bed. Had he put him there? Did he pass out? He groggily rose up from it, deciding that it was better to save thinking for another time, and slowly stretched out, putting some needed attention to his right leg. At least he wasn’t in pain anymore, but his entire body felt like a ton of bricks. It didn’t help that he couldn’t recall much before waking up.

It took him a while to get cognizant enough to hear faint music that filled the room. He turned towards it, blinking a few times in an attempt to refocus his vision. Akira had pulled up a chair in front of his TV, with all attention on some video game. Although he must have heard him get up, because he paused the game shortly after and turned to face him.

“I thought you died in my arms for a second there,” It was almost deadpan, but he could hear the underlying playfulness in his tone, along with the slight upturn of his mouth. Ryuji blinked again, what could he be forgetting? How did he even forget in the first place? He remembered encountering Ann and Makoto, to running away, to collapsing onto the floor, and then…

Oh.

It would explain the crusty eyes, and the fact that he definitely had passed out. With the realization, he could no longer keep eye contact with Akira, his face now flushed with a burning scarlet. It’s not everyday someone cries on their best friend's shoulder like that, or the fact that said best friend just went along with it. The sudden closeness then now puzzled him, but he tried to chase away the thought before it got any worse.

“Ah— Yeah…” He could remember how warm the embrace had felt, but that could've also been the heat traveling all over his body. The feeling still felt nice, but that only made it even more embarrassing. He coughed, taking a chance at sheepishly looking up at him, “Sorry ‘bout your shirt...by the way.”

He just shook his head at him instead of saying anything, lending him a warm smile before turning back to his game. The music hummed back on and it was back to normal, so why couldn’t Ryuji get over it himself? The event wasn’t even elaborated on, instead just left in the air, as if it _wasn’t_ odd. But to him the whole thing just felt...awkward. He couldn’t wrap it around his brain, the fact that he cried so hard in front of him, that he held onto him, that _Akira_ held him so closely and tightly...for whatever reason. And he was supposed to simply wave it off? Not even talk about it? He’d expect more jabs at him at the very least. Never had he ever had his emotional breaks treated so casually, which would have been nice, if it didn’t leave a weird feeling in his stomach.

He could only imagine how loud he was during it, which only added more to his embarrassment. There was no doubt that the customers downstairs could have heard it. Very hesitantly, he walked over to Akira, asking, “Did, uh, Sojiro ever…? Know I was bein’ loud.”

“He didn't, he understands the gist of what's been going on. I haven't told him anything though, if that's what you're worried about.” He nodded at him, taking a seat on the couch. The gesture was extremely thoughtful, it being a private matter was important to him, and there was something about it just being between the two of them that made it feel special. He didn't have to worry about unneeded pity, or others taking it into their own hands. Sojiro might have been a great guy but he was an adult first before anything. If his mom found out at any point...He didn't know what to think. He bit at his lip, taking another glance at Akira, whose attention was still no longer on him. It put him at ease a little bit, at the very least.

He still found himself talking about it however, voicing it out made him feel better, yet worse somehow, “Hey man, um...Thanks for dealin’ with all my shit. Don't usually cry in front of like, my best bros.”

“I thought I was your only best bro? I feel _betrayed_ ,” His eyes narrowed playfully, that stupid smirk of his lining his lips as he talked. _Of course_ , the minute he saw his hand go up and to his chest, Ryuji was already preparing himself in witnessing something painful. He could always count on him to be so...dramatic. All he could do was give out an eye roll, moving to say something but instead got interrupted by Akira again. He cracked a smile, a genuine one this time, “Kidding though. I'm glad you got it out.”

He nudged a controller his way, which he gladly took, and Akira headed over to switch out games. He looked over at him fondly while he did so, taking a minute to really think about his situation and how talented his friend always managed to be. No matter how sticky of a situation they were in, there was this calmness that he carried that eventually washed over his own panic. So much so, that he looked forward to the days ahead, and how lucky he was to have him.


	9. Ryuji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah i took quite a bit to write this but i wrote so much for this chapter ! i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it

He cherished the fact that Akira cared enough about him to let him stay here for the time being; it was a kind gesture, and he no longer had to worry about appearance or spending time by himself. The last few days were proof as to why he shouldn’t be. He could barely function without Akira, and the world seemed extra hard on him when he was.

It had only been a couple of days and he felt as if he witnessed all the worst sides of him, which normally he'd be ashamed of doing. However this time, it felt...nice. And the fact that he was still here trying to help him — or that he just wanted to be with him — amazed him. It always created this fuzzy feeling that bubbled up in his stomach, one that made him feel clumsy at the thought of it. He couldn’t be more thankful.

However, such a kind feeling didn’t save the place from being so utterly boring.

While the still days offered its own odd comfort, “still” and Ryuji never mixed. He always had to be doing something, always had to be moving around, and always had to be occupying his mind with _anything_ . It was like there was an underlying tension that managed to sneak under his skin when he didn’t, which only made the place feel unbearable at times. He was starting to understand why Akira, who was a mix of being on edge and _barely_ reaching acceptance, would simply do the same thing over and over just to get away from that feeling. It was a talent he was almost wishing he had possessed, but instead he found himself taking naps once the two had run out of things to talk about — Something Akira _loved_ to make fun about him once he woke up.

Although, this time, out of Akira’s desperate request, he had held off on the napping with the promise they'd finally do something fun. Said friend was downstairs at the moment, having said he had something to discuss with Sojiro — Code for complaining about his “detainment.” The two had been hoping to get out of the place before one of them died of boredom first, and he apparently had something special planned when they could.

It didn’t take much long for him to slink back in with an obvious smile on his face. Ryuji looked up from his phone, teasing, “Guessin’ boss finally got tired of your beggin’?”  

“It was _not_ begging…Just very desperately negotiating with him,” He answered matter-of-factly, closing the door a little harshly out of — dramatic — anger. He let out a sigh, looking off towards the wall as he trailed, “I was going to talk about my good news but I guess someone doesn't appreciate the effort I put in…”

He simply ignored his dramatics, it was better not to encourage him when he was like this, but that didn’t stop the amusement in his voice, “You at least gonna tell me where we’re goin’ at all?”

“That'd ruin the surprise wouldn't it?” Ryuji let out a scoff in disagreement, but Akira only chuckled back, motioning upwards, “Just get ready, please?”

* * *

 He at least tried to act surprised during their trip, but it’s a little hard when the train announces where they'll be heading...and where they'll be stopping. Or the simple fact that Akira had to buy a ticket for the both of them, which also clearly showed where they’d be heading. He gave his friend the benefit of the doubt for being holed up for so long, as it plainly showed on his face that he just remembered how the subways worked and the embarrassment that came with it. So he tried to suppress his laughter for his dignity's sake, although he was sure he won this round.

Just outside the window was the colorful city of Harajuku, the place was bustling with people accompanied by brightly colored buildings and signs that still lit up in broad daylight. As beautiful as the place might be, his excitement wasn’t as high as it could be, but he tried not to show that on his face either. Harajuku wasn’t so bad but...it wasn’t an Ogikubo, though even he had to admit it was too early for ramen. Although, it was a little confusing for him to be bringing him here first as well. The two had gone shopping here once or twice, Ryuji more so here for the food, but he wouldn’t say it was one of his favorite places.

The confusion was probably obviously shown on his face, as Akira said soon after, “A little shopping always boosted my confidence, maybe it’ll do the same for you. Just follow me, okay?”

He nodded — He had almost forgotten that this was for his own health, not just for the fact that the two wanted to finally get out of the cafe. Regardless of where they were, or what they were doing, if Akira thought it’d work then so be it. He couldn’t deny that Akira had a knack in being right with most things. He wanted to trust in him so that Ryuji could at least feel a little better. The two needed a break from all the drama that was enveloping around them anyway. It shouldn’t be too hard anyhow, feeling comfortable with Akira always felt effortless, just being around him managed to make him happy. However, even with that, as he looked outside the train it said otherwise to him, it felt like he’d get lost more than anything. Paired with the fact that it was such a busy day, he wouldn’t be surprised if they couldn’t go anywhere. Akira looked hopeful though, and he seemed to be enjoying the thought of being here — Though it could’ve easily be the fact that he was finally outside — but he’d still feel guilty if he tried to sour the mood by doubting.

Stepping out of the subway felt like stepping into a harsh current: restless waves of people pulling him in before pushing him away. There was no such thing as personal space, just constant bumping mixed with the annoying few that refused to move out of the way. More than once was he separated and pushed away from Akira, which he was surprised that he could still spot — He was just glad that his curly hair always stood out no matter where they were. Akira however, unlike Ryuji, who was having a hard time walking through the dense area, somehow — though not surprisingly — was able to flawlessly move through the current with a _spring_ in his step. And even though he knew he really wasn’t, he hated the fact that he was just rubbing it in his face.

Eventually — and thankfully — the traffic finally lulled, and the two were able to wander around together. Along with the crowds dying down, the sound had as well, even between them. They walked together mostly in silence, with Akira pointing here and there at small stands from time to time, or enjoying snacks from those same stands. It felt so calm, in comparison to what was going on previously, and...he enjoyed it? For the past few days it’s been like this, and he still couldn’t understand it. Their usual hangouts were always filled with energy (Notably by him, mostly); constant movement and _noise_ that never failed to drown everything out. Rambunctious laughter and yelling that he was always jokingly scolded on, yet still found fun in doing. It was the constant back and forth of banter or the fast pace of the arcade; perhaps the only relaxing time being when they went out to eat, though Ryuji still tried to fill in the silence then. Never was he able to stand or willingly be _quiet_ and yet here he was, basking in the sudden silence, with Akira teaching him the beauty of it — Intentionally or not.

It wasn’t until he noticed Akira suddenly light up, quickly moving to pull at him without saying a word. He was too impatient to wait for Ryuji to take the hint and follow him, instead deciding to drag him over himself as he almost ran towards whatever was causing the excitement. The sudden change of pace managed to distract him long enough, before he looked down to where Akira was pulling, the tight grip not around his arm but his—

His hand?

He knew — He thought? — it wasn’t intentional, it was just the first thing he could grab, right?  It didn’t have to really mean _anything,_ but even that reasoning couldn’t stop his face from turning a bright red. What if other people saw? What would they think? After all, hand-holding was for — _No_ , he was obviously over-thinking all of it...It couldn’t have meant anything, right? Usually, that’d be a comforting thought, but part of him almost felt saddened if it were true. Something he decided not to dwell on for too long. The grip was too tight for him to pull back if he wanted to anyway — Which he totally did for that matter. So, despite it being overwhelming, he rode it out until they finally stopped.

Which is to say, he didn’t. Once Akira finally stopped walking, he gave it a couple seconds, which those seconds turned to minutes and…

He glanced at their hands that were still clasped, shyly peering back up at Akira, who hadn’t noticed anything. Or if he did, he made no haste in letting go. It wouldn’t be bad if he didn’t want to let go either, right? It felt...It felt better that way. Instead he sidled up to him, looking out at the clothing store in front and quietly asked, “So this lil shop is your surprise, I’m guessin’?”

“Yes, this ‘little’ thing is what I wanted to show you. It's usually busy around this time so I'm glad it isn't now.” He mused, flicking mirthful eyes at him. “You need a new look.”

He nudged at him, laughing, the guy was just afraid of color. Akira only seemed to quietly beam in reply, motioning him towards the entrance of the shop.

* * *

It was just a clothing store, but there was something about the atmosphere that added onto his lightheadedness and the sporadicness in his steps. Despite it looking small at first, the inside was spacious and roomy, coupled with warm lighting that radiated comfort. He was surprised to find himself so entranced by a _clothing_ _store_ , but he felt like he understood why Akira liked the place. He couldn’t deny the fact that the hand holding might have partly been the reason for it either.

He looked around the area once more in an attempt to get out of his own sidetracked thoughts; they had finally stopped walking around and he could hear the clinking of hangers being moved. He jerked back — Oddly enough, he found himself in the dress aisle. Did he — Did he really have to wear this? He knew they were out to buy new clothing, but he wasn’t sure if he could wear _that_ , or if he’d be comfortable in it. Though, it looked like Akira was starting to catch onto his shock. Grey eyes darted over to Ryuji for a second, before solemnly turning back to the clothing rack, now slowly moving each hanger to the side. There was a slight tint to his cheeks, but a small frown lined his face, one that Ryuji felt guilty for causing.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it.” He paused, biting at his lip and moving to curl his hair behind his ear. He looked nervous in what he was about to say, but still tried to sound confident, “I like to buy dresses and skirts every now and then, it feels liberating.”

He never knew about this side of him —  He knew about the makeup at the very least, but didn’t realize how far down it went. It never bothered him, and still didn’t, but it was obvious that the subject was something he was scared of sharing. To have that confided to him, even though he knew it was an accident, was still enough to make him speechless. Slowly, he walked back over to Akira, whose shy eyes were still focused on the dresses in front of him. He had a tight grip around one of the dresses and a foot that loudly tapped at the floor. He looked so nervous and so tense, and normally he would be saddened by the fact — which, part of him was — but there was a beauty within it as well. To him, it was special. He’s known Akira for a while, he doesn’t easily show when he falters, only tries to show when he’s perfectly balanced —  For a reason he still couldn’t find out. To have it torn away, even just a little bit, was something he wanted to treasure forever.

“Again, you don’t have to wear these,” He finally looked at him, now taking notice of their intertwined hands and quickly letting go. The color on his cheeks only seemed to deepen in color. He almost wished he could see this flustered side of him more, though maybe with less of a sad reason behind it.

However, it had taken Ryuji a little while longer to notice he was still _staring_ at him, immediately turning to look somewhere — anywhere else so it’d be a little less awkward. Although he was sure Akira had already noticed before him. He opened his mouth to say something, but went to give a thumbs up instead, before walking in a different direction to save himself from his embarrassment.

* * *

 Now that he was away from the awkwardness that unraveled earlier, he found himself on a mission to get back at him. Ryuji always found himself being stunned by Akira, be it by his own confidence or really —  just about everything he did. He was so talented in _everything_ , to the point he took great pride in making Ryuji speechless — Which, wasn’t hard, unfortunately. But now, especially because of what happened mere seconds ago, he was going to put an effort in turning the tables against him. It would be a hard feat, but despite the joke Akira pulled before they entered the store, Ryuji’s style was one thing he was confident in. The thought of being able to have Akira feel like he did only added onto the excitement. Akira wasn’t going to win this time.

He had finally started to head towards the dressing room with a handful of clothes in tow. Earlier, Akira had texted him that they’d meet up over there, on the rule that they couldn’t see each other until they were both in what they picked out. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug with how things were turning out, as it looked as if things were all falling into his plan.

The clothes he picked were mostly an assortment of leather and other colorful accessories, feeling a little inspired by his phantom thief outfit. He never tried to go all the way with the punk style, but trying out new things was a part of the process, and he was sure it would blow Akira away.  He walked out all dolled up in a leather jacket and ripped jeans rolled up at the cuffs. He was flashy in every sense of the word, from his yellow shirt, to the generous amount of bracelets on him, and to the spikes adorned on his jacket and boots. He looked so _cool_. There was no way Akira could out do him here.

Until — Well, until Ryuji actually caught a glimpse of Akira stepping out of his stall.

He swore the only thing Akira did was change his clothes, and yet he looked as if he was glowing. It was surprising to see him in something so light and airy, his normal attire was typically so dark, but it only seemed to reflect Ryuji’s own feelings. A white blouse rested nicely around his shoulders, the exposed skin almost feeling _criminal_ to see. A deep, crimson skirt was snugly wrapped around his waist, while the rest of it swayed in a movement that completely entranced him. And then he _spun_ , highlighting the flow of his skirt that only managed to add onto the confidence that exuded out of him. His own pride only seemed to falter at the sight, with him now feeling clumsy and clunky in his own clothing. How could he ever top something as wonderful as that? He almost felt like he shouldn’t even be in the same place as him.

“Well?” He inched closer to him, gesturing at his outfit, “How do I look?” He gulped. He couldn’t pry his eyes off of him, but still couldn’t utter a word in reply. If he felt speechless earlier before, then it was something worse now. He couldn’t get over his own friend’s glow or the fact that his looks left him like _this_. He was confused as to why it was happening, and he didn’t quite like it, but he just looked so...so...

“Pretty.”

He stared back at widened eyes, his own jaw turning slack after what he said. Curse this stupid brain of his; it was times like these that he understood why people said he didn’t have a filter. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, he’d get one someday. He scrambled to fix what he said before it had the chance to settle in both of their thoughts, coughing rather loudly, “P-pretty good in that, yeah. It suits you, bro.”

He was just as surprised as he was when he first heard it, but soon filled the place with a soft laughter, a warm smile enveloping on his face. Ryuji wasn’t given enough time to piece out _why_ he’d be smiling at that remark, since he swung an arm around him, poking at his side, “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Was it unheard of for him to compliment him? No, but that didn't stop him from feeling like he was on top of the world. Being so close to Akira also brought attention to how tense he was, but that somehow only made him stand up straighter. He couldn't control his stutters or the sheepish look on his face, “You — You, uh, thi — think so?”

He gave him a light squeeze and a warmth tingled all around him; he almost had to resist the urge to lean onto him, though at this point he could barely hold his own weight. Akira’s smile widened a bit more, “To the check out, shall we?” By the time they exited the shop, the sun was about to set, and other places were getting ready for the night rush. Despite it being surprisingly late, they made no rush in walking to the subway station. Ryuji had said he was going to head back home finally, but he started to regret that decision, it seemed like Akira was too. He couldn't just mope around the attic anymore, and the worry about his mom being alone had started to become too great, however that didn't stop them from trying their hardest not to see the subway. The two walked side by side in silence, arms touching as well as their hands, but neither made an effort to hold them. Ryuji had considered for a while, longing to feel his soft hand again, but decided that enough weird things had happened today. He couldn't afford to add onto the confusion that simmered in the back of his head. Just wanting to hold them again was enough of an obstacle.

He caught his attention again when he clasped his hands, starting to casually say, “So I was thinking, we can't let these outfits go to waste, yeah?” Ryuji nodded, the outfits were too nice not to wear...and made quite a dent in their wallets that he felt obligated to do so. He continued, “How about we go out somewhere with it on? Someplace nice.”

“Only if you’re payin’,” He gave out a toothy grin, but there was truth in what he said, all he had was chump change at this point. Akira seemed rich enough from all his Mementos money anyway. He rolled his eyes, but shortly stopped in tracks afterward. Ryuji looked out ahead of them and he swallowed hard. When they turned back to look at each other, he could notice the small crease in Akira’s brows and he in turn bit at his lip. This was their stop. More importantly, the two wouldn’t be getting on the same train back home.

The first train, Akira’s stop, took no time in making its way over. They had tomorrow at the very least, but something felt bitter in seeing him go. He could tell he felt the same as well, as the crease in his brows only deepened, and his lips formed a straight line. To his surprise, he had went to move closer to Ryuji, hand ghosting over his arm before he pulled back. Ryuji wanted to reach out and pull him back — Just to find out what he wanted to say, but decided against it. He was already moving towards the train at this point. Akira only turned back to look at him to smile, to which Ryuji smiled back, but there was a part of him that didn't want to let him go. It felt rushed, and Ryuji didn't want to part from him for too long. Didn't want to spend any hours without him, but he waved goodbye anyway, as he watched the subway go by as he left.  
  
The ride home was a quiet one, which allowed him to finally unravel whatever was happening today. While nice, the day was still incredibly strange, and things were moving too fast for him to process any of it. He had been acting so weird lately.

And it was all because of Akira.

All he could remember were vivid images of his friend, from how nice his hand felt when it was tangled in his own, the shy quaver in his voice, how that _skirt_ formed nicely around his waist...He could recount all of times he was made speechless of it all, and how many times he thought he was beautiful.

Beautiful.

He couldn't deny it. His friend was a work of art, and what happened back there wasn't the first time he felt so out of place beside him. No matter how hard he wanted to slot in right beside him Akira was so many leagues ahead of him. And yet, part of him...Part of him wanted…

He hit his head on the pole in front of him, groaning quietly. It was much more than that wasn't it? God, he felt so stupid. How had he never noticed? That constant warm feeling in his chest, the bubbling excitement when Akira simply touched him, how starry eyed he felt when complimented...Was this more than platonic? Had he fallen in the love with his best friend? There was a huge chance that he had always had been, which only made things worse, there was no way he was this dense. His grip around the pole tightened, perhaps the most daunting question was whether or not he was being selfish. They hadn’t talked to the others in a while, but the thought of wanting him all to himself, of wanting to be more than he really deserved...It didn’t rest well in his stomach. Not to mention he doubted Akira liked him that way either, it was way too much of a shot in the dark to try and entertain the thought of it. And yet— No, he couldn’t. He didn’t —

He didn’t know.

The ride from that point on was a solemn one. The wistful feeling that welled up in him was long gone now, but he tried not to think about it too much. He just hoped it wouldn’t come between them.


	10. Ryuji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys ! im totally not dead im so sorry that this took so long! i got busy with commissions and assignments that i couldnt find time to write this, i feel bad for leaving you guys hanging for a little more than a month ^^;; im definitely never going to take that long again and am kicking myself into gear to get chapters done from now on haha. id say expect a new one every 1~2 weeks probably

Today was the day.

Looking out towards the dim light of his window, he could tell it was early — perhaps _too_ early — but he couldn't go back to sleep. He decided he didn't want to either.

He’d be out with Akira again.

It wasn’t _unusual_ , yes, but Ryuji couldn’t help but be jittery by the time morning came. He took in a shaky breath and scrambled for his phone, taking a long look at the screen.

_Don’t forget, I’m treating you! ;P_

He rolled his eyes, but still smiled, placing the phone close to his chest. It’d be just the two of them. Alone together. With how the rest of the week was like, it was nothing out of the ordinary, but there was something different about it. All he could think about was the nice clothes they’d wear and all the things they could do, or the plain fact that they’d just be _together_. In the same space. Over lunch. Somewhere quiet and serene. No one could blame him for being so obviously happy about it all, especially with what he’s been through as of late. He just wanted to feel that warmth again.

He practically jumped out of his bed at the thought of it, turning to shuffle for the bags of clothes from last night. He knew he shouldn’t get too excited by it, it really _wasn’t_ anything special, and yet…

He stared at the leather jacket in his hands. He had to keep his feet on the ground, he knew that, but it was hard to when a little text made him feel like he was in the clouds. They would just be hanging out, but by the looks of it, he knew others would think it was something more. Where was the harm in him pretending this once too? Despite the sharp turn last night — Despite the glum acknowledgment, there was part of him that still wanted to be hopeful. To just entertain the thought, even just a little bit. It couldn’t be too bad, right? He bit at his lip, dwelling on the thought for a moment longer, before pulling all the contents out of the bag. He wanted to get better, _Akira_ wanted him to get better, it was no use in thinking so negatively unless he wanted to put his progress in reverse.

Plus, Akira was treating him. Free food.

He marched out of his bedroom, making final adjustments to his sleeves and to his belt, and a huge grin had emerged on his face while doing so. He was going to make the best out of this day. He was going to woo Akira while he was at it. Well— Maybe not woo, he didn't think he was quite ready for that — but taking another stab at having Akira feel like he did.

“What’s the special occasion?” His mom had piped up, a godawful amount of mirth in her voice that he could almost mistake her for Akira. The sudden sound had made him jump, and her chuckle in return. She had leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, clearly amused not only by catching him in the act, but how visibly shaken he looked because of it.

“Huh? What d’you— “ She rolled her eyes, gesturing towards his outfit. For some reason, he almost forgot how unusual it was to have him wearing something so...extravagant, and his face quickly reddened at the realization. She simply waited for an answer, foot tapping while an obvious smirk pulled at her lips. Mumbling, he tugged at his shirt harshly, “Hanging out with my friend. Nothin’ special.”

There was a pause for a moment— Most likely her trying to suppress a laugh, then to a gentle but knowing “Ah” from her. She nodded slowly and whispered, “Go get’em, tiger.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but all he could do was sputter out incoherent noises, roughly translating to: “It’s nothin’ like that!” and “Why do you gotta embarrass me!”

Except maybe it was a little like that. A lot like that. He wasn't sure. He knew he wanted it to be. Just a little bit.

His mom understood, although half dropped it and half didn’t. There was still a blatant, toothy grin on her face as she reached up to ruffle his hair...Something that took painstakingly long to do might he add. Although she didn’t say anything else, just gave out a small thumbs up before turning to leave. He couldn’t stay mad at her like that — Even if she messed up his hair a little bit. It was nice to be wished some luck, maybe things would work out for him this time. Regardless, it’d be a nice day out no matter the outcome.

* * *

 Now that he was thinking about it, he really could have slept in a few more hours. There was a lot of time to kill before the afternoon, but no real way how. He figured heading over towards the mall would help a bit, but the fact that he was out in this get up only seemed to make things a lot more tense. As he walked in and out of each shop, he was acutely aware of all the stares he was getting, to the point he had to sit down to gather his bearings. Sweaty leather clung to his skin and his bright bracelets only flashed as a reminder of his gaudy outfit. Never wearing something as over the top cemented that fact and he had to consider: Was it too much? He took one long look at himself, only to confirm his worries — But, Akira said he looked nice in it.

It didn’t wow him though. At least he didn’t look so swept up like Ryuji was when he came out for him to think it worked on him too.

He leaned against the bench, the more he thought about it, the more it started to dawn on him that it wasn’t really about the outfit. Well, it was but— Differently. It wasn’t the stares that caused him to feel out of place, but that maybe...It felt like it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t uphold to Akira’s standards, who looked so wonderful, so _confident_ , that it wasn’t fair. He's never been this hard on himself like this — Looks-wise, he took care of his face and style, more or less, that he was pretty happy with himself. It was just that standing next to Akira made him feel like a five year old who didn't know how to dress. Which is why he had to get back at him.

And how he spotted a flower shop nearby.

He had quickly headed inside the little shop— This was acceptable, right? It wouldn’t be odd to show up with some flowers even if it was just a _hang out_ and he figured that it would be a nice way to one up Akira. Problem is, he didn’t know a lick of flower language — If that was really a thing — and didn’t want to ask the worker out of embarrassment. Akira worked here from time and time but he doubted it was required to know, although he _so_ would be the person to do that. He put too much effort into anything he did, but at least Ryuji knew the obvious ones. It might’ve been a bit cliched, but he had almost immediately gravitated towards the roses in the middle of the shop. Roses were romantic — Er, wait, _appropriate..._ To his ultimate plan...In order to get back at him. Yeah.

It’d be nice though if it was. Today was going to be a day of pretending, of considering what could be, so why not go the full way? Twirling the stem of the flower, he brought it up to his nose, slowly breathing in the sweet, floral smell. Its deep red, the elegance of it, and gentle aroma all brought him back to thoughts of Akira. To his own grace, his kindness, and that whimsical outfit of his. He’d be wearing it again today. He could remember the sheer confidence Akira had when he had it on, how Ryuji so desperately wanted to feel that too. He let out a deep sigh, the things he’d do to have that feeling — and more, forever. To have it returned...Even just for a little while. But, the cheerful momentum from the morning still came to a harsh halt, with him having to meet with reality once more. Amidst all the dreaming, the excited ideas of actually having a _chance_ and doing something about it, he knew it wasn’t as easy as he wanted it to be. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t keep his hopes up too much. With what would be happening later on in the day, it felt almost within reach, yet also unobtainable.

It didn’t quite stop him from rummaging through his pockets in search of his wallet, however. He opened the sad little thing only to find out that a big, fancy bouquet was not a possibility. Luckily, he had enough for...exactly one rose. Not stunning as he’d like it to be, but it was the thought that counted. He still didn’t know if he wanted to make that big of a move either, if at all, one at least wouldn’t give him the wrong signal…

* * *

 The sky turned a crisp orange, the air around now losing some of its warmth, as late afternoon settled in. Reservations had to be rescheduled for dinner rather than lunch — Something about Sojiro “holding him hostage” to help around in the cafe before he could leave. And even then, Ryuji stood in front of the cafe’s door, foot tapping as he took tireless glances around the place. Still no sight of Akira. Even with a time delay, he would usually find his way to be on time, or even earlier, but there was no sly figure waiting by the door for him this time. Instead it was a nervous Ryuji idly standing by said door, holding his rose in a death grip. He tried to straighten up, in case Akira came by any minute, but he still couldn’t shake off that twitchy feeling.

“Sorry for being so late.”

Heels clacked on the cobbled walkway. He looked up and his heart stopped.

“Got caught up with makeup, it’s harder to do alone…” His lips pursed, which only seemed to emphasize the glossy pink that brought life to his usual paleness. Dark lidded eyes looked down at the floor and god— Could his lashes get any longer? Crimson nails curled hair behind an ear and Ryuji almost forgot to breathe in his presence.

And then there was the outfit. It was the same as yesterday, but it still had a tight grip around his heart. The sky behind him may have been golden but Akira only seemed to glow brighter, his beauty standing out so much that Ryuji was speechless once more. He swallowed hard, choosing to inch towards him, almost forgetting about the rose hidden behind him. He clumsily thrusted his arm outwards, the outstretched arm felt stiff and shook slightly, and he looked at him shyly, though every part of him dared to look away.

It took a second for him to realize what was in front of him, his face lighting up once he did. He gently picked the rose from his hand, raising it up to take a deep breath as he closed his eyes. The smile on his face was so full of warmth that Ryuji felt like he was melting because of it. Akira looked over to him, whispering in awe, “It’s beautiful.”

 _You're beautiful._ A simple rose could never come close to his grace, but even though he was enraptured by the sight, he couldn’t make himself say that. Not out loud. He kept that feeling with him in his heart, although it hurt to do so. Instead, a hand rushed up to the nape of his neck and he rubbed considerably harsh, as a sheepish smile formed on muttering lips, “Sorry it’s not a bouquet or anythin.’ Didn't have a lotta money after last night…”

“Bouquet or a single flower...It’s just as nice.” And somehow he managed to sound so poetic and smooth at the drop of a pin. _It really wasn't fair._ Yet part of him didn't mind if it wasn't, if it meant that he could hear it more often. Akira laughed, “I feel a little bad that I didn’t get anything, on top of being late.”

He let out a small sigh, what more could he ever ask for than him?

* * *

He had never been to this cafe, but there was a sense of familiarity once they entered. The bitter coffee smell that lingered on Akira surrounded this place as well, tied with the amount of time spent over at his place, it wasn't that odd for there to be at all. It was kind of amusing as to why he would even bring him here instead of going to Leblanc, but he figured it’d be awkward with Sojiro around, and the atmosphere would never have been the same.

The place was mostly lit up by the big windows on the side of the cafe, although each booth was accompanied by a hanging lamp and each table accompanied by candles. The sounds of coffee being made — and even further back, food being cooked — mingled in with the soft chatter of people. Quiet music played overhead that almost made the place feel romantic. The cafe looked and carried itself very professionally, and yet the rustic atmosphere invited comfort that most — if not all — of his anxiety seemed to go away. The jittery feeling remained as Akira was still with him, but he felt like he could drop a few worries and jump into the easy going tempo of the place.

As they waited for the receptionist to call them, he nudged Akira, whispering, “Mind tellin’ me why a cafe when you live right in Leblanc’s?”

“It wouldn’t be as special, would it?” He pointed out, nudging him right back. “I just heard it was a nice place for…”

His mouth quickly closed shut while his eyes opened wider in turn, Ryuji leaned in closer out of curiousity, but it seemed like Akira couldn’t look at him. He tapped at the floor with his foot, as he quietly muttered, “I heard it has nice food— I’ve always wanted to go here.”

He quirked a brow at the odd response, but couldn’t think much of it once their name was finally called. They were seated at a table covered in pearly white by a waitress as nice as she was talkative, although if he was going to be honest, he couldn't remember much of anything that was said. He did however, remember how Akira smoothly ordered from the menu and how Akira laughed at Ryuji’s own nervous pronunciations. His anxiety slowly sauntered back in feelings of inadequacy, but at the same time, it’s all he wanted to do. Each wrong move sparked an airy laughter, a tug of a smile, a small kick under the table; playfulness that disguised reassurance. There was a humorous glint in his eyes, one that told Ryuji that his worries only caused moments of endearments. Akira was just eating it up for whatever reason, and he fell further. If it were to get a rise out of him, then he didn't mind leaving everything at the door.

And with that, the food had finally arrived to their table. A plate of steak was placed in front of him, while curry was put in front of Akira. He raised his brows and snorted, gesturing at Akira’s dish. They really could have stayed at Leblanc’s if he wanted curry that badly. Plus, shouldn’t he have been tired of that by now?

His friend quickly noticed, pointing a fork in his direction, “Trying to see if it holds up to the old man’s.” He then gave a so-so gesture, but still looked to be thoroughly enjoying the food. He just rolled his eyes, turning to the meat on his plate. This place was no joke, not even the meat from that expensive buffet could meet its level. Though, he had to agree with him, compared to Sojiro’s and even Akira’s food, it couldn’t hold a candle to it. But again, it was free food from an expensive place, he’d enjoy this moment as much as he could.

“So,” He said in between chews, “Y’ready for school?”

“ _Charming_ conversation starter, Ryuji, but honestly? As long as I'm out of the attic anything’s fine— “

He coughed, hastily saying, “Well, uh, good news. Exams.”

“Oh. Wait,” He placed his fork down, squinting at him, “Have you even studied?”

He paused for a moment, a big grin forming on his face. He replied, rather nervously, “Uh….Well, y’know...Might’ve wanted to hang out with my best bro too much to? Had a little too much fun bein’ with you I guess...” He let out an anxious chuckle, hand returning to the back of his neck.

A small smile had also enveloped his face, it was the same as yesterday’s, that warm smile that lit up the rest of him. A faint pink had seeped onto his face as well and his hand returned to his hair, ruffling the side before trying to curl it behind an ear. Ryuji had sucked in a breath, clearly not expecting that reaction, but loved every second of it. Akira muttered, “...I’ll let it pass this time. You and me are studying before I come back to school though.”

He waved it off, but nodded, anything for him.

The light dizziness, warm atmosphere, and heartfelt reassurances reminded him of the incident after stealing Shido’s treasure. — Not in the usual bad way but, everything that happened afterwards. How gentle everything felt, how gentle _Akira_ was. He had been so kind to him, despite the fact that Ryuji wasn’t like himself these past few days. Just like everybody else did, he could have left at any moment, but he was the only one who stayed. He couldn’t think of any reasons why he would— And maybe he didn’t even want to know. The fact that he was here is all he could have ever wanted. This was the guy he had fallen for, for who knows how long, but he knew why, and honestly? He couldn't be happier. It created a buzz in his heart, something he'd be content with it staying to that extent so long that Akira was here. If only...Maybe...

He swirled his glass of tea slowly, intently watching the tea move around, as he tried to keep the nagging frown from appearing on his face. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way, but there always came a point where he just couldn’t keep pretending. If he just knew…

Well, maybe he could— _No_ , that was a stupid idea. He remembered the last time they did that, and how embarrassing it became afterwards. Asking what kind of girls he likes during their time in Hawaii, the short silence and his flummoxed face, to Akira just flat out saying he was gay. He had been so ashamed for asking something so stupid back then that he couldn’t look him in the eye afterwards. Asking it again would just be embarrassing _—_ Asking again _here_ would not only be embarrassing but downright suspicious.

And still, he coughed, looking up at his friend and saying, “So, Akira...Uh— “ He shifted around in his chair and adjusted the collar of his shirt, “A lil’ sudden but, got reminded of our trip in Hawaii...Never asked but, um, what _is_ your type? Got any crushes or somethin’...” He coughed again, “Sorry if that’s like, personal or anythin’.”

He had looked almost taken back by the question, to which Ryuji darted his eyes to his plate by the reaction, and the longer it stayed in the air the more flustered he felt for asking it. If he had just said this at a better time _maybe_ it wouldn’t feel so bad, but he just had to know—

“Well, if you _must_ know,” More laughter crept into his voice, Akira was still trying to sound so smooth even with a sudden and invasive question like that. It somehow made Ryuji feel worse. He leaned in closer, smirk plainly on his face,“I have my eyes on this one guy...Blond, athletic— Always acting like a tough guy but has a genuine heart of gold. Dreamy really.”

He nodded slowly; it felt a little like a punch to the gut really. He wondered who it could have been, but kept drawing blanks, although he felt like it was better that he didn’t. Whoever that guy was though, he wasn't going to have it easy, but it at least gave him a small reality check. With how things were going, and the added overall mood of this place, he didn't want to give up so easily, not this time. He scratched at his face, looking elsewhere and said, almost begrudgingly, “He’s a lucky guy, whoever you’re crushing on.”

“Yeah— “ He leaned in closely, hovering a hand over Ryuji’s— Reality check or not, he couldn’t pass the opportunity, letting it happen instead of pulling back. The tenseness in his body reeled back at the comforting touch too. “Don’t get too jealous though, he couldn’t replace you, y’know. Kind of...Impossible I’d say.”

He totally was but— He couldn’t let Akira know that. He had almost jerked back at the spot on observation, trying to find easy excuses, “J-jealous?! Bro, I wouldn't— “

“ _Ryuji._ ”

So what if he was? Really, he just hoped Akira wouldn't take it the wrong away. Everything he did screamed suspicious, but he wouldn't at all be ready for confrontation. He slumped in his chair, mumbling, “Maybe a lil…”

“I'm not going to leave you,” He gave his hand a light squeeze before patting it. “Cheer up a bit, okay? It's time to have a little fun.”

He tried to smile at him to show that he’d be alright, but it came out awkwardly; it seemed that Akira still took it wholeheartedly, returning the smile. And in the end, the rest of the evening was fun. It was silent between them, both enjoying the food and the jazz music that played around them. They stole playful glances and soft kicks under the table, and everything about it just felt like a dream. And if it were, he didn't ever want to wake up, not if he was able to live like this forever. Just the two of them. In each other's company. If it was selfish then so be it, he wanted to indulge just this once. Even if he'd feel shameful about it the next day.

Not to mention— Though, maybe he mentioned it too much — Akira was immaculate. He couldn't understand how he could act so flawless and look so _beautiful_ without breaking. And even when he did break (And Ryuji took great pride in those), it was Ryuji’s breath that was taken away. It was the fact that he managed to save himself so quickly from embarrassment, how he still looked so perfect when embarrassed. Meanwhile Ryuji was a stuttering mess, he wanted to impress Akira, but always ended up sounding too nervous. Always fidgeting and stumbling on everything. Yet, Akira looked as if he didn't mind it at all and accepted it — Hell, more than accepted it, _cherished_ it even. All it did was create more butterflies in his stomach, whose flutterings had echoed in his heart as well.

The evening waxed over the red sky as the hangout was coming close to an end. The tempo of the day had lulled, leaving the two idly looking at each other as they enjoyed one last dessert together. Akira called in the check so they could go, but part of him didn’t want to leave. Everything felt like a scene from an art piece and he wanted to stay in that picture perfect memory. Because, after this night, everything would go back to normal. They would just be friends — Which they still were even now, but it just felt...Different. It’d be friendly banter, platonic touches — no underlying intimacy within it. The warmth around them, while still nice, wouldn’t carry the same feeling. Though maybe...He was just reading in too deep, that he was just feeding too much into his imagination that he was feeling something that wasn’t there. But he just wanted...He wanted to stay in that little bubble, because maybe it felt like it wasn’t quite enough for him this time. He wanted to fight for it, even if it seemed impossible.

Quietly, he asked, turning to fiddle around with his bracelets, “Hey, Akira? Do you...Do you maybe think...We — We could, um.” He paused. Akira was looking at him intently, but he couldn’t do it. Did he want to ruin that friendship with him? He tensed up, fists balled up before exhaling, “N-nevermind. We should be headin’ out soon anyway.”

Akira was about to try and push further, looking puzzled by his worried ramblings, but the waitress had already come back, check in hand. He could see a slight frown form on his face, but he dropped it, instead getting up to leave. He nervously followed right behind him, the room was starting to feel a little suffocating. As they headed outside however, the cool, fresh air seemed to blow away the nagging feeling. Even Akira had bounced back up from his confusion, turning around to face him. He stepped in closer, hand brushing over his, and smiled, “I had a great time today, I hope you did too.”

He wanted to say that he did, that he wouldn’t mind doing again either, but no part of his body wanted to listen. He just smiled and nodded, his own hand pulling back from Akira’s. His friend thought nothing of it, instead chuckling before turning to leave. He waved one last goodbye, and then it was just him. He took a deep sigh. Tomorrow would be the same as any other day. They would just be friends. Kind smiles that meant nothing more than platonic. Hell, this day could might as well have never happened. His heart may have ached at the thought of nothing changing, but he knew it was a good thing.

He just couldn’t destroy what was between them.


	11. Ryuji

He almost forgot how lonely this apartment could be. For a while now, he was too used to another person being right at his side, that only now did he start to realize how empty it was here. It was understandable at the very least, the only other person was his mom and he really couldn’t blame her for not being around as much as he wanted her to be. She had been working so hard so they could have a decent life, but as thankful as he was, the fact that he had been used to this kind of living felt odd to him. He only wished he cherished those moments when she was home a little bit more. Now, it was just...Quiet. Too quiet. He thought he was fine with that by now, but it didn’t carry the same feeling here. One managed to dig under his skin, icy cold tendrils that created twists in his guts; while the other felt like warm open arms that invited happiness, arms that he only wanted to dive deeper into. He put a little more thought into it, a hard grimace capturing his face once it dawned on him. Really..It might’ve only been when Akira was around. He was the only person who managed to make everything feel comforting to him, but he knew he couldn’t have him around all the time to fill in every wrong in his life. They would be meeting up again tonight though, thankfully, but it was... _Tonight_ . He _could_ come in early, but he knew that would be bothersome, so he’d have to toughen up and wait it out even if it felt mind-numbingly impossible to do so.

He rummaged through game cartridge after game cartridge, finally plucking an old retro from the shelf. The game took its time in loading, so Ryuji turned to his phone, hurriedly flicking a playlist on in order to fill in the silence. Out blasted loud pop music with semi decipherable lyrics; something that usually helped a little in not concentrating on anything. As long as the room wasn't so unnervingly silent, he could take the wait— And yet, the hands around his controller wound tightly, the only thing between it and him being the sweat that started to form. He looked back over to the TV, its screen blinking different colors and 8bit music softly playing from the speakers, to which he took no time in starting up the first round. If— If he could just distract himself from the real problem, even just for a little bit, he'd stop himself from stressing out all over again.

It didn’t quite work.

It was less about the quiet now — he _knew_ it was barely about the quiet in the first place — but it did help bring those thoughts up to the surface. It would be nice if it did, but it wasn’t like exams, where he could avoid it by playing video games. He sighed, letting the controller roll out of his hand, and fell flat against the bed, taking in the dull sight of the ceiling. With how fast paced things were going, he never found the time to think— Well, he usually _never_ gave himself time to think in the first place, but now that he did have that time, maybe he should. He was smart enough to know it wasn’t as clear cut as he wanted it to be, and if he just let himself, maybe he’d be able to find out the right answer.  But— Was there even a “right” answer to this? As of now, he had two options: One that was impossible and the other he just couldn’t be happy with. No matter the choice, he couldn’t win.

He just felt so…so…

Selfish.

The word was seared into his mind, the taste bitter in his mouth even though he never said it. Winning should never have been the point, but the more he hung out with him the more he wanted...More. He wanted to hear his faint laughter, see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and how his hand always raised up to his open mouth. The comforting touch that was so casual, how he always felt cold as ice but soft as silk. The sarcastic trill that came out from a voice so smooth that whatever he said sounded like a song. He wanted to experience it all the time. He wanted to have it all to himself. It was so precious, he almost wanted no one else to see it but him.

And that was the shitty part.

Who's to say he deserved any of that? His breath felt harsh in his throat, and he carded through messy hair out of frustration. He then feebly reached out for his phone, choosing to raise it up towards his face before flipping to his messages.

He tapped on Akira’s, taking the time to read through them once more. Articulate and straightforward, yet there was an underlying sense of compassion in his texts. Between the small reminders and joking banter, it didn’t take Ryuji long to realize how much his friend looked out for him. Then came in the weirdly intimate late night conversations, where things felt weird and out of place, but Akira always managed to ground him among the confusion. The serious conversations that, for a while, he believed was impossible for him to have, yet here he was, spilling everything to him. He wouldn’t trade those moments for the world, the fact that he could trust in someone enough to confide in them. But at the same time...He took another deep breath, laying the phone against his chest, hand clenched around the case. All of those acts of kindness...It felt like it was going to the wrong person. He was known to get people close to him hurt, and with feelings like these...Who gave him the right to hurt their friendship like that? Had he ever once considered Akira’s feelings? He was in love with another guy, — _Of course_ _he was_ — he couldn’t mess with that. And yet— The sting in his chest told him otherwise. That sting wanted him to _try_ for once, because god, if he could have at least one thing in his life, it would be him.

* * *

The bag hanging on his shoulder was light, but the weight of _exams_ still rested heavily on his shoulder. With the added fact that was Akira was forcing him to study for it, no less. He had already accepted his placement in the exams—  Though he had to admit, it would be nice to see a change in his grades for once. Still, it wasn’t his definition of a fun hang out, but Akira _was_ the top of his class, and if he didn’t take this chance then it would be a loss on his part. His friend would still have that perfect score even if he didn’t show up for the study night. He wouldn't be happy about it either way. Maybe...if he tried hard enough, he could distract him away from a study session. But instead of trying to devise a plan, he shook the thought away — but kept it seated at the back of his mind — laughing quietly to himself. He turned to grab the cafe’s door handle, slowly pulling the door open. Being able to hang out with Akira would suffice.

The silence in the cafe wasn’t an unusual one, but there was an underlying tension in the room that was not. He couldn't come up with a reason, but part of him did not feel safe once he entered.

The mystery of it soon solved itself, the minute his eyes locked onto the person sitting at the counter.

He jerked back, hands hastily searching for the handle behind him. For someone who came by here at an extensive amount, he couldn't remember where it was. All he could be grateful for was the fact that his breathing was still at an even tempo, unlike his first encounter with them after the incident. However, even with his rather loud panic, she had yet to notice he was there. Instead, pensive brown eyes focused heavily on the coffee in front of her. Her hands were neatly folded on top of her lap, but her legs were crossed over each other almost uncomfortably so. There sat Makoto, almost looking as if she was searching for a sign in her drink. Sojiro made no mention of him when he noticed Ryuji walk in, _thankfully_ , but it didn't take long for someone else to start something.

Quick footsteps soon halted their tracks on the staircase. If he had to compare what he saw next, he would liken it to that of a cat poised up against an intruder. Hostile and domineering. Tense shoulders moving upwards and fingers that gripped the railing so tightly they became a stark white. A sharp glare moved quickly onto his face, eyebrows knitted, eyes darkened, and teeth gritted. The entire reaction was slow but built up on pure feeling, something Ryuji found it surprising to see. The fact that Akira was so...angry. He couldn’t imagine anyone being used to seeing it. The only other time he could recall this extent was at Shido’s— How long had he been holding this inside? For something about him, no less. He looked towards Sojiro for an answer. He simply shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” The tone was callous and demanding, to the point even Ryuji was unnerved by it. The amount of raw emotion in his tone...It was practically unheard of, yet almost reassuring at the same time. His back was now completely against the door, but his hand around the handle had gone limp.

She whipped her head in Akira’s direction, but she took a moment before she said anything. A loud exhale was heard from her end before she went to stand up, hands now pressed flatly against her back. Even though he exhibited an aggressive aura, it took Ryuji little time for him to notice that his shoulders slightly fell back and the grip on the railing — while still tight —  had gone lax. The obvious anxiety that wracked Makoto, a person he knew Akira was genuinely close to, had easily softened his friend. He wondered if she could tell that too.

“I wanted to — _We_ wanted to apologize for our behavior back there. The rest of the team wanted to be here, but found themselves busy today, so I’m here on their behalf.” She was as studious as ever, but the pang of guilt that was also engraved in her voice was enough to hurt him as well. She gave a curt bow shortly after, and then stood there to wait for his reply.

For a while, it was just another round of silence, with Akira eyeing her briefly until he finally welcomed Ryuji into the conversation. He tilted his head, gesturing towards Makoto just enough for him to notice, but not her. He frowned. He knew it would be up to him to make the decision, but it was so sudden that he didn’t want to— Didn’t know if he ever wanted to in the first place. But— Looking at her, the problem almost felt like a distant memory now. It still stung, yes, but with what Akira had done to help and how anxious Makoto sounded in front of them, he knew it was time. He still feared what the others thought of him, but he felt it was better to jump back in without any second thoughts. He had a bigger problem on his hands anyway. He looked back at him, nodding, now choosing to move away from the door and towards Akira.

Once she caught wind of his appearance, the last legs of her seriousness had broken. The small twitches and stiff posture was already a tell tale sign of how nervous she had been with the confrontation, but with the added fact that her usual perceptive self didn't see him, the person who got hurt from it all, only seemed to amplify all of it. She was about to say something, most likely more apologies, but Akira had stopped her before she could. He raised his hand up, his tone polite but distant, “It’s fine. _We’re_ fine, yeah?”

He looked over to him, offering him a chance to talk, and he almost wished he didn't. But he still did anyway, shifting around and murmuring, “S’fine...Kinda. Think I’m gonna need more time alone though.”

“Of course. But—” She bit her lip, hand briefly touching her hair, “We miss you guys. Especially you, Ryuji.”

It was surprising, to say the least. Even with the fact that they did come to apologize, he hadn’t expected to hear something so...Nice. To have him come first...Instead of it being a desperate plea to get Akira back with Ryuji being some afterthought. With what they had done to him, he couldn’t really believe they still liked him, even a little bit. Akira was already a step ahead of him though, before he could even formulate an actual reaction, those same words he considered pleasant, only set him off more. He didn’t even need to look at him to realize how tense he became, along with his tone being nonchalant with a hint of aggression, “Wouldn’t need to be missing him if you just—”

A harsh elbow to the side was able to stop him from continuing the thought, it might’ve hurt to do, but it was better than unraveling more unneeded drama. He lent a smile her way, saying, “Thanks. Jus’ tell everyone it’s okay now.”

If it wasn’t already, the exchange had gotten awkward by now. She gave one more short bow and an uneasy smile, trying her best to ignore Akira, who couldn't contain his negativity. The hostility in the room only seemed to heighten, and Makoto took that as a sign to leave before anything else could be said.

* * *

 It was quiet throughout after that. The two had shuffled into his room, the place hinted with the same hostile feeling that lingered on Akira. He knew it wasn’t directed towards him, but he still couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling, and he didn’t dare utter a word because of it. Instead, he gently placed his bag down on the couch, digging through its context for his textbooks. Akira was doing the same thing, shuffling through his shelves but in a much rougher fashion.

He paused what he was doing, taking a seat and continuing to watch his friend go through his anger. Unsurprisingly, as aggressive as his actions were, there were many cues that told him otherwise. His movement was long and laborious, taking the time to rearrange books on his shelves and stare almost longingly at anything he pulled out. It was a distraction at best, or a way to weed through his own thoughts. If it wasn’t already obvious, Akira wasn’t so in touch with feelings; he was sure it was puzzling to him as well, but he knew him long enough to already have a reason for his behavior. He sighed, giving him a pitiful look, “I know you can't stay mad at her.”

“I want to,” he whispered, harsh yet simultaneously meek. He stopped moving, eyes glued to the floor, hair ruffled to the point where it almost looked puffed out in frustration. His shoulders drooped down but were drawn close to him; hands wound tightly together but expression soft. Solemn even. Saying Akira didn’t have a single bad bone in his body would be lying, but when it came to his friends, he couldn’t help but be weak. Especially to someone he knew he found close, he considered it hard to believe he could play up the act for long.

“Y’know man...You can talk t’me about it,” He offered. Although chances of him giving him a straight answer were slim, but it was better than completely ignoring it. At best it was a considerate gesture. He just shrugged, trying to change the subject by raising up a math textbook in his hand. He — willingly — took the bait, pulling out his own before slowly making his way closer to Akira. They were here to study for exams first and foremost. Plus, it was nice to finally have a chance to take a break from all the problems that kept popping up. He just didn't expect avoiding it would be done with math. Or that he'd be excited to do that instead, for the matter.

The two decided to relocate on the bed, Akira choosing to sit up against the back wall while Ryuji was propped against the side, book far away enough like it was cursed. The action seemed to spark laughter from Akira, his own chuckles melting away the hostility around him.

With time, Akira had started to return to his usual self, his only complaint being the fact that his usual self was also a _snooty_ _honor student_. He had sped through the first set of problems in a breeze, but Ryuji was still caught up on the second question, unsure of what the _first_ _step_ was. Akira had leaned over to his textbook to reexamine the problem, gently reassuring him that he was doing well— while still having the nerve to be sarcastic with it all. He sent a pout and glare his way, but continued to listen to him aside from his snide comments. He’d be stupid if he didn’t.

Several minutes had passed and they were almost ready to move onto the next subject, with Akira more or less spoonfeeding him the answers at this point. Some of which seemed to stick in his head, at least. Though of course, he was already having enough of it really, but he didn't know what else to do. He closed the textbook, begrudgingly switching it out for another one while Akira did a few more problems for sport. He watched him contently as he waited, and really, if it meant that he could watch the ace at his work, he didn't mind studying in the least bit. Actually— Him finding that “attractive” was far too embarrassing; he switched it to being thankful for his help, which he genuinely was. It was the only way he could have at least a small glimmer of hope that his grades would get better after all. He wanted to be able to move up with Akira for as long as he could.

He didn’t have that long though, did he? Not living wise but — Them. Together. He tried so hard to forget about his year probation, and how once that was over he’d be gone, but with how things were panning out...The harsh reality of it all was starting to stick out more and more each day. It wasn’t fair. The first true friend he’s ever had in years and he has to leave? Some luck he had. He flitted through the pages of his textbook. It made him wonder though, why was he doing this all for him? As grateful as he was, Akira wasn’t obligated to help him at all — Not just with studies — especially when he could just leave and forget him altogether. Ryuji wasn’t his problem. That is to say, the dumbass was as selfless as they came, and it’d be right up his alley to do just this. But...It was _him_. He couldn’t have deserved it.  

“You ready to move on?” His words managed to cut through his thoughts before it could get any worse. The sounds of books moving around were filling the room. He focused back on Akira and, for some reason, his thoughts went completely blank.

“Uh—” He let his mouth hang open for a little while, his eyes widening as he tried to say something after losing his train of thought. Akira simply quirked a brow at the odd reaction, but still patiently waited for an answer. “Actually, um…”

He took a deep breath, “Why’re you doin’ any of this for me. Like— Why even bother helpin’ me?”

Breathy but short laughter. Almost hollow. Ryuji couldn’t stop but continue on, “Practically a lost cause. And...You’re leavin’ soon. It’s not like you’re gonna need me anymore.”

“Ryuji…” He trailed off, his name uttered in a soft whisper, a frown quickly forming on his face. “How do I say this…”

He scratched at the side of his face, hand moving up to curl a hair behind his ear, then back down to fidget at each side of his pencil. He had bit his lip, head tilted and eyes narrowed. Not at him— But rather a random spot on the wall. Akira couldn't even make an attempt to look at him. The entire exchange had started to make him panic, with the fact that he couldn't just give him a straight answer, or the fact that he had to think long about it. Like he was trying to come up with a reason because he never had one in the first place. But all he could do was anxiously watch him before he answered, though he was starting to feel like his deepest fears were becoming true.

“I...Actually understand...To a degree.” Wasn’t something he expected to hear from him. He— He could sense that there was something that Akira was hiding, but not this. He kept his eyes glued on him but didn’t say anything, he was too shocked to reply.

It prompted Akira to continue. A sharp laugh echoed in the room, “Guess no one ever really wondered my parents found it so easy to kick me out, it’s why I never told anyone— Aside from other reasons.”

He shifted in his seat, hands now clasped tightly together and shoved down onto his leg. He kept his eyes there as he talked, the tone of his voice almost morbid, “I don’t know why or when it started but, I guess I wasn’t— I wasn’t special. I never got hit but...My parents had a knack for just— Pretending I didn’t exist? Really, it’s...it’s hilarious. Not sure when it started but, I remember having that ever present feeling of terror ever since I was little. They would ‘forget’ to pick me up or ‘forget’ to come back home for long periods of time. I had to fend for myself a lot, but there just came a time where...Where I just gave up. I didn’t do much to try to change either, I guess. I had already...accepted it. They could barely care enough to wonder why their son didn’t come out of his room for periods of a time, just rotting away. You saw how I was earlier. Old habits die hard I suppose.”

More silence. A cold, but burning anger filled his heart, but Ryuji couldn’t even say anything. Not even to try and comfort him, it was like there was a hard lump stuck in his throat. He could never imagine—

“And I know, a huge part of me always blamed it on myself. Still do. Though not as much. So, I can kind of understand what you’re going through, y’know. And I’m confident enough to say that none of this was your fault. You’re wanted, Ryuji,” He finally looked back up at him, tears pooling up at the corners of his eyes.

He couldn’t ask for more. A surge of emotions had exploded in his mind: The anger that still burned in his chest, the sadness caught in his throat, and yet...He couldn’t help but feel warm by the words he said. He didn’t know what to do with those feelings, his mind still drawing blanks as to what to say, but his own impulses were already ahead of him. While Akira tried to wipe away the tears that _begged_ to stream down, Ryuji had practically jumped towards him, pulling him in a tight embrace. He still hadn’t said anything yet, choosing to bask in the quiet. Akira had almost jerked back by the surprise hug, but quickly grabbed at him tighter, covering his face in his shoulder.

“Thanks, but…” He paused for a moment, taking the time to adjust himself on the bed, and gently pat at his back. He could feel Akira shaking in his arms, something wet pooling at his shirt. “None a’that was your fault too. Please...Tell me stuff like that more often. I wanna help too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my chapters are taking longer just because of the sheer fact that im starting to write more (my last few chapters were 4000 words each)...the cost being i have to proofread that all now, but anyways-- healing times with the boys !!


	12. Akira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys its been a while, hope youre still excited about this fic ! promise i wont drop it again, ive been playing my ng+ so my inspiration has been rekindled ;;

It almost didn’t feel right to go back to school. Well— It wasn’t that it didn’t feel right, he just...didn’t want to. By the time his alarm blared off he was undeterred by it, choosing to keep his eyes closed just a little longer instead of accepting his situation, hoping it’d stop on its own. Unlike a certain someone he knew, exams weren’t the problem. As much as he had been desperately wanting to get out of this cramped attic, school wasn’t the answer now. And he didn’t need to give much — or really any — thought as to why he was feeling that way. 

Oh, he’d love to get out, maybe to the mall, off to Dome Town, eat at the dinner...with  _ him.  _ That certain someone had taken over his life— When hadn’t he, really. The past few days felt like a rollercoaster: some parts terrifying yet, at the same time, exhilarating as it went on. Breathtaking,even. And Ryuji was the centerpoint of it all. He was starting to see all of him, something he was more than grateful to experience. The only terrifying part of it was the fact that, Akira was tearing down his own walls in return. Little by little, but showing even that much was starting to make him nervous. He’s never talked about his problems with anyone, and yet…

He didn’t want it to stop. Ever. All school did was shorten the time they had with each other. And maybe— Maybe he was just being childish; they could text during class, meet up during lunch, and hang out after school. But it just wasn’t the same. It barely scratched the surface of what he truthfully wanted. To be in his company alone, no interruptions, just...Him. It’s all he could ever ask for, and school couldn’t offer that experience. It was the first time in his life that he had a reason to want to keep on going, to actually want to  _ have _ something. He knew he wasn’t meant to but...It couldn’t hurt to be selfish, for a little bit, right?

He’d have to open his eyes at some point. 

And when he did— literally this time — something didn’t feel right about it. He had gotten used to the lack of extra warmth on his bed by now, but it was back, although bigger and unfamiliar, and not exactly in the right place. He squinted, quietly sitting upwards as to not alert whoever it might be. In his daze, he could only make a vague shape of what it could be, but regardless, he didn’t remember giving Sojiro the OK to let anyone else in yet. And it definitely wasn’t the man himself, he wasn’t much for mushy actions like these, much preferring to silently let his concerns out. 

Once his brain finally decided to try and decipher what was in front of him, there sat Futaba, at the edge of his bed. Her arms were stiff against the mattress, but every other part of her managed to be slack and curled into her. It was hard to read her expression with how her hair seemed to hide it, but she looked so dismal. He tried hard not to show his worry, still too stubborn to back off his own grudge. He was still on edge by the previous events that he wanted to stay mad at everyone involved; the problem with that being a) he didn’t quite have the emotional capacity for that and b) well, it was Futaba. She was like a little sister to him, at most he could only be jokingly mad at her. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but Futaba was faster. She didn’t even look at him, instead choosing to whisper at the wall, “You haven’t been takin’ care of yourself, huh?” 

Her statement only seemed to echo in the room. She hit right on the nail, and he hated that fact, but tried to deny it. He eyed her for a moment, “What makes you think that?” 

“Cause I know you, duh,” She whipped her head to narrow her eyes at him, saying with such profound surety that it already felt like he lost. “You just look...Tired. Too busy gushing over your crush to yourself?” 

A toothy grin wrapped around her face, further cementing her win, but there was something in her eyes that told him she was hiding something from him. A slight hesitance beneath crass words— He could tell she was genuinely worried for him. He could only let out a sigh in return, choosing to move closer to her. 

“ _ Futaba _ ,” He groaned, but paused for a moment, biting at his lip. “Ryuji’s health is more important. You guys—” 

“Ah ah! No excuses. If Ryuji wasn’t a brick wall he’d be so worried because of you...Make some time for yourself,” She grumbled, nudging at him with her shoulder. He let the words sink in before he spoke; how worried  _ were _ the other? A pang of guilt almost made him forget how mad he wanted to be. He almost felt bad for having left them in the dark like that, but it was for Ryuji’s sake. What they did...He didn’t know if he’d ever really recover from it, despite their forgiveness it was unforgivable. 

He had been ignoring himself and focusing all his attention and care on Ryuji though. When didn’t he, really. It was a bad habit of his, but he couldn’t help but snicker though. Futaba giving him advice? She was just as bad as him. He teased, “Sure, I’ll take advice from you, Miss ‘I like to stay up for weeks hacking into stuff for shits and giggles.’” 

“Hey, I’m giving you good advice ya know! Nevermind my habits.” She crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out at him. 

He smiled, he knew he could never be mad at her. Really, he was more proud than anything, with her looking after him. Like Sojiro, she didn’t quite like  _ showing _ much of her true feelings; perhaps this was her way of saying thank you. He had to admit it was a little embarrassing though, someone younger than him— Someone  _ he  _ was supposed to watch over, kept better eyes on his health than he did. So much for being her ”role model.” 

He mumbled, scratching at his cheek, “...Thank you, Futaba.” 

Another grin, another poke to the side— Something just to soften the mood. She laughed, “No problem,  _ bro _ .” 

* * *

The atmosphere in the classroom felt like when he first transferred here; meeting Ann. The underlying tension and hostility, the hardened stares — Although reversed now. From her glassy eyed look to the knuckle white grip of her pencil, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she felt guilty for everything, but no part of him wanted to offer a morsel of comfort. Instead of dropping it, it was glaring daggers and walking away without a hint of pity in his actions.

As much as he tried to deny it, it still made him feel uneasy, knowing deep down that he shouldn’t have felt that way, but there was something about Ann that didn’t allow him to act any way else.  Something about her making the first hit and starting the downhill path thereafter. They could make up later, for now he’d focus on exams — If their classmates could stop making rumours about the encounter.

By the time he was halfway through his exams, he was starting to feel the loneliness he dug himself into. It was easier to run away from when he was holed up in the attic. Things had already felt different and he could blame that feeling for having to detach from everything, for the sake of getting into another palace. Now that he was back in school, everything was starting to feel out of place. He missed the whispers of a certain someone with every question he had, the complete silence dissonant and almost aggravating. How, the feeling of a cold and empty desk brought him back to his reality. The reality of the loss of a casual wave before slipping into class, or a morning conversation by the subway, had sunk its teeth into him. There was no one coming to him to complain about testing and how they stayed up playing games instead of studying, to which he would laugh before wishing them luck. And as much as he could say all he needed was Ryuji, which had some truth to it, he was too soft hearted to try and get rid of anyone else. The days only seemed to get lonelier.

Futaba’s words echoed in his mind, but all he knew how to do was run away. Though, avoiding the problem at hand  _ could  _ be considered as taking care of himself too— Even if it wasn’t the right or correct way of going about it. They did apologize, and Ryuji  _ had _ forgiven them, he knew that, but this anger still  _ festered _ inside him. He put up such a front, he didn’t quite know how to back down or if he even could. It might be good for the both of them if he just dropped it, but he had never felt so angry over anything for this long. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as his anger against Shido, and even he had deserved it. Deep down, he knew they didn’t. 

While he’d love to (Read: he wouldn’t.) think about it more, at this moment, his grades were a little bit more important than his personal problems. 

He considered apologizing to Ann and actually talking to her once lunch came around,  _ but _ Ryuji messaged him seconds after about meeting up on the roof, to which he rather too quickly used as an excuse to further his avoidance. Instead, he slipped out of his classroom, quickly climbing up the stairs as he made sure no one else was following. 

If there was one thing he actually wanted to take a stab at, it was what happened last night. The emotional rollercoaster known as the past few days didn’t seem to be stopping, and it seemed like it was turning into Akira’s own baggage. He didn’t quite like it, if he was going to be honest. Sharing things were never his strong suit. Even with Ryuji, talking about it didn’t come with ease, and it was always a weird mix of comfort and uncomfortable. No one else caused this problem but him however, and he at least wanted to clear whatever might be around them because of it. And maybe apologize for all those tears shed on his shirt. 

Like he always did, relief washed over him once he had spotted Ryuji— but upon further inspection, it didn’t look as if his friend reciprocated those same feelings. Narrowed eyes glared in his direction, his lips pressed tightly together, his arms crossed defiantly. His feet rested on a stray desk, as his chair leaned fearlessly on its back legs, as if to intimidate him. The anger that radiated so strongly around him wasn’t pointed at the world, no, it was towards  _ him _ . And he couldn’t place a reason for it. Him being far from jokingly mad at him felt odd, especially when it felt like he was being wordless  _ scolding _ by him. It was a rare experience, which only made it worse, as it could only mean whatever he did had cut deep. He walked over to him hesitantly, keeping his distance, and it didn’t take quite long for his confusions to be answered. 

“Y’know, I know it ain’t a good idea to listen to people here, but heard somethin’ went on in your class. Like, you an’ Ann got in a fight— Y’seriously still mad at her? Thought we were past that by now.”

Word got around fast. He lowered his head, the tone of his voice sounded so ashamed that Akira couldn’t keep his eyes on him for long. He still tried to remain calm, moving to adjust his collar as he tried to reason, “Maybe not as big as they’re conflating it to be, but...In a way, yes. It’s just— you...you wouldn’t understand—” 

“Like  _ hell _ I would understand!” He slammed his hand loudly against the desk, and Akira flinched. He knew it was stupid of him to try and excuse his unnecessary actions, and yet he still tried. He felt so ashamed of himself. He waited for more scolding by him, but it was only silence, followed by quiet cursing. His voice was now somber, like he didn’t mean the violent snapping, “Really...s’okay if you’re still angry at ‘em. I’d be lyin’ if I said I ain’t. I  _ was  _ the one who got hurt, dude. But still. I know you man. You’re not the kinda guy that can jus’ throw them away like that.” 

He was right about that, and he hated it. He hated the fact that he was starting to become transparent, the fact that people were starting to see right through him wasn’t a welcome thought in his mind. Even if it was Ryuji, he wasn’t used to being so open, and he didn’t quite know if he wanted to be. All he wanted to curl up in a ball, shut up about himself, and maybe forget it was even happening.

And again, he could tell. “Remember when I said I wanna hear more about you, ‘bout how you’re feelin’? I really meant it.” 

It was a kind gesture, one that tried to gently pull him out of his comfort zone. He just didn’t know if he was ready yet. He didn’t want to recount that horrible memory again. He had done it too many times in order to find an answer, only to find that there was none. Now all it did was sear a hole in his chest and do flips with his stomach. That was good enough reason not to want to talk about it. But...There was this nagging feeling, that maybe, if he just told someone, that he might find closure in it. There was still the daunting fact that it pried too deep into his own feelings, but he couldn’t bottle it up for long. It wasn’t like all of his other problems. And with how the other day turned out to be, it might not be so bad to try. 

He pulled a spare chair from the pile, seating in front of the desk Ryuji sat by. He rested his hands on the desk, fingers neatly clasped together, but he couldn’t help but feel like a bundle of nerves. Quietly, he started, “When you were gone, I was terrified. I couldn’t fathom what it meant if you were gone for good. I didn’t— I didn’t know what I’d do with you.” 

There was hesitance in his next set of words, but he tried to continue before Ryuji could say anything. He carded a hand through his hair, saying, “When it turned out that you were okay I was more than happy, but no one else thought the same. When Ann hit you I panicked, but I didn’t move. I...I didn’t stop them.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, the liquid pooling up to blur his vision, but he didn’t dare let it roll down. His breath hitched ever so slightly, and he rushed to wipe away the tears before it could continue. In contrast to his face, his voice was rather emotionless, “Oh look, I’m crying again. Sorry.”

Ryuji was quick to grab at his wrists, his grip was gentle, but firm enough to pull them back down on the desk. Akira had finally looked up at him— For the first time, since they had started to talk. Those warm, brown eyes stared straight at him, comforting yet worried. He had kept a hand over his, and it took every fiber of his being not to make note of it— Not to overthink about it just this once, instead tentatively watching each and everyone one of his friend’s movement. Everything about it was wildly intimate that it was almost too much for him, but he happily accepted every bit of it, trying to just bask in this comfort. He looked back into his eyes, eyebrows upturned but smile still as bright as ever. He blinked back tears, a few strays still finding ways to roll down, as he listened to him say, almost breathlessly, “You don’t needa hide it.” 

He cocked his head, but let out a dry laugh soon after, “Isn’t it pathetic to see your leader like this?” 

“Akira...Leader dont mean anythin’ when you’re my friend. Couldn’t care less if you showed a lil weakness, you’re allowed to.” It came so easily, so matter-of-factly, that it shocked him. He almost felt a little stupid for ever thinking otherwise. “Wouldn’t mind if you did more often.” 

A playful jab at Akira’s own perfectionism, although it might have held something deeper inside of it, something he wanted to find out. However, he couldn’t think about it too much, as he was distracted by Ryuji’s lopsided grin and how it threatened to release the laughter behind his lips. He could only furrow his brows and squint his eyes back at him, but like everything about him at the moment, his anger — if it could be called that — was flimsy. He rested his chin on his hand, idly watching in amusement of the restoration of Ryuji’s usual restless and beaming self. He knew he got himself into trouble with how deeply infatuated he was with him, but as he stared at him, he couldn’t see how he wouldn’t be. 

* * *

 

With the amount of times he felt his phone buzz, he was starting to wonder if Ryuji had been actually concentrating at all. He could already recount all the times it broke his own focus. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that perhaps, Ryuji didn’t “deserve” the afternoon out— on the  _ first _ day no less — but that didn’t mean he said no. Quite on the contrary, but it was only because it was a little endearing is all. Enough for him to cave in from all the pleads and begging— And maybe decide on treating him on top of that. He couldn’t deny how embarrassing it was to not really be able to refuse him, or the fact that he might spoil him a bit too much, but the look his face was a worthwhile one at least. He knew he was going to get in trouble one day because of him.

But for now, the two seated themselves in the lovely, if not packed, Ogikubo. The salty aroma and hot steamed that wafted around in the restaurant had managed to make the place feel relaxed. The seating was evenly spaced out as well, so that despite its high traffic, it would never feel cramped. On top of that, the two had come here enough times that some chefs were familiar with them and were always kind in their talk and generous with their servings. The calming atmosphere, small talk, and generous bowls however, would never manage to keep off Akira’s focus on Ryuji. In fact, it only drew him into him more. 

Nothing could ever hold a candle to Ryuji’s love for this place. He didn’t seem offset by the amount of people in there with them— maybe a little bummed out at the start by the waiting time, but nothing he was entirely not used to. And certainly not enough to sour his mood. As dim as the restaurant was, he had an air around him that lit the place up, cheeky grins and reckless energy that rolled out from him in waves; washing over Akira with such a warmth he felt completely relaxed. It was something he enjoyed seeing, even when most of his friend’s attention was on scarfing down as much food as possible. He let out a small laugh to himself, his own chopsticks dancing around the bowl. The food here might have been extraordinary, but seldom did he have an appetite. He only wanted to look at him all day. He was almost a little jealous that a place could cause him such great happiness. But it was happiness. He would just like to be the one who caused it sometimes. 

And perhaps, the jealousy wasn’t so much transfixed on a  _ restaurant _ , but also how fast Ryuji seemed to be recovering. It took little to readjust to old ways— He was usually like that, but he could tell there was something else lingering inside him when it did. But this time, it didn’t quite look like that, with the simple fact that he was more willing to talk to them than Akira was. Something he felt a little bad about being. Akira, someone who wasn’t even the  _ victim _ , had more trouble coming to terms with it than the actual person who had gotten hurt. And he didn’t know whether he should have been proud, saddened, or embarrassed by that regard. He ended up settling for a mixture of all three. While he was glad that Ryuji was finally getting better, he was wondering when that same thing would happen to him soon. 

He didn’t quite consider himself the type of person who held onto grudges for too long— he didn’t have much time for that, — but something about it coming from the people he thought he could depend on made it hurt that much more. 

Maybe it was little too close to home for him. 

But it still didn’t make much sense to him.  Ryuji had always been the type to forgive too easily at the expense of blaming himself, but there usually still were hints of being on edge with the person of conflict. Given his background, he couldn't put trust in people so carelessly, especially after they had wronged him. And yet...Nothing quite added up. He knew him long enough to know that he usually hid behind a wall of anger and it didn't matter who it was against. He had admitted to being at least a little angry, but clearly not enough to  _ not _ scold Akira. After Makoto had showed up, it was like Ryuji had made up his mind, coming terms with what happened. With that, part of him felt like it was irrational to question. What's done was done, and shouldn't he be pleased with how things were turning out? 

Still. He placed his chopsticks to the side of him and asked, “Are you sure you're okay?”

He paused mid slurp, noodles hanging to his chin, bowl still tilting to his face, and widening, confused eyes; any seriousness had left the building, but Akira tried not to falter from it. He loudly set down his bowl, wiping any residue on his face with his arm— A charmer, really. He eyed him for a moment in bewilderment, as if Akira had said something in another language. After a long and uncomfortable pause, he answered, “...Yeah?” 

“...Wait. We still on about those guys?” 

It didn't take long for him to realize. There was a slight edge to his voice, like he was already tired of talking about this. But Akira needed answers. He wanted to at least know if his concerns were right, or to be reassured in his more indignant feelings. He finally nodded. He pushed his bowl a little further away, looking back up at Akira with a pout that traced his lips. A long pause— Like Ryuji was more or less trying to gather up the right words.

“I know you’re tryin’ to help— And, thanks. Really. But…” He sucked in a breath. It took little time for Akira to realize he was holding his own. “I’m fine, man. Like— I dunno. It’s jus’ over. I’m cool with it, not tryin’ to toughen up this time. Case that’s what you’re all worryin’ about over there.”

His bowl seemed rather nice to look at right now. It was more than embarrassing to know how easy it had become for Ryuji to read him, with him getting a first glimpse of that during lunch. As much as he was glad that Ryuji had gotten over that habit, at least in this moment, it didn’t seem like it was the right time. If he was angry, shouldn’t he have been? Akira had been unnaturally relentless on them that in order for it make any sense Ryuji had to feel it more in return. The situation had hit deep enough for even the most even-tempered people to be set off by it, it being up there with Shido’s offenses in terms of reactions. But Ryuji...It was like he was taking up Akira’s usual side of things. He was maturing, maybe even faster than Akira. He managed to say what had been on his mind the entire time, “How do you even forgive so easily?”  

“S’not as easy as you think. Thought about it for a while, but I guess I got a lil numb to it is all. Not a bad thing.”

“But aren't you still mad?” He had only ever seen Ryuji at extremes; always unbridled anger or a complete shut out. The two were complete opposites when it came to it. Akira being more than out of touch with his own feelings, and Ryuji less than in control of his. He couldn’t quite imagine him in between, but with how things were starting to rapidly change, it would seem to be that way. Ryuji scratched his head, face scrunched up as he took another moment to think on it. As mature as he might have been getting, at least in handling emotions, thinking had yet to come to ease with him. 

“Course I am. It hurt. A lot. But I've been learnin’ a lot too. S’better to let go sometimes, y’know? Wouldn't be able to stay mad at ‘em forever.” He returned to his ramen not long after, as if rewarding himself for his explanations. He continued, in between chews, “You can't either.” 

 

Those words echoed in his mind even as he headed onto the bus. He really couldn’t let go of them. He knew that. Ryuji could see it. But it was the one grudge he felt like he needed to hold. The had never escalated to that level of anger and cruelty with one another. That incident with Morgana maybe, but it still wasn’t the average drama— Typically there was  _ no _ drama. It’s what struck at his nerves the most, the fact that they thought it was okay, even if it was in the sput of the moment. Apology or not, someone should have stopped to think if what they were doing was downright awful. That someone could have been him, but he was too damn slow to even think of anything. So in the end he still didn’t quite get how Ryuji was so easy to forgive. So easy to hang out with  _ him _ even though he had done nothing to stop it. He knew he wouldn’t budge once he made his mind. And maybe it was better that he had made amends. It didn’t make Akira’s acceptance any easier however. He glanced outside the window toward the dreary sky above, as if he was looking for an answer in the grey clouds.

“ _ Make some time for yourself. _ ” 

This morning came to mind, and the words Futaba had said to him stuck out now. The world would keep on going without him. The days would get shorter and so would his time. He would never be able to take care of himself if he didn't make room for it and usually, that was his plan. His own fatal flaw. Selflessness. Every part of him wanted to put Ryuji first, he knew his friend rarely got that treatment, and so he sacrificed every bit of his health. Ryuji was starting to notice. 

Those two were going farther ahead than he ever imagined. With or without him. He felt like a fool for not seeing it like they did. 

And so maybe...not isolating himself from the group was the good thing. If he really wanted to support Ryuji then he would have to accept their forgiveness— At some point at least. He couldn't imagine it anytime soon, but if it were done slowly...Perhaps. He just knew he was right. Akira really did need them, he would never be able to keep them out of touch.

  
Deep down he knew he acted this way for Ryuji. He didn't want to put up with it for his sake, even if it looked like Ryuji was more accepting than him. His innate need to protect him put his own feelings on haywire. The situation  _ was _ downright awful, he would do anything if he could go back to stop it— that much was normal, but his uncharacteristic anger on it? Not quite. He hated being wrong but…Maybe it’d do good not to isolate himself so much from the group. If he really wanted to support Ryuji that much, it would only make sense to accept their forgiveness. With some time at the very least...

**Author's Note:**

> oh ! i have a twitter ? in case you wanna show me anything for any of my works...its @avianmalware


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